How  to  Cook 


"ADD     A     LITTLE     SUGAR." 

Husbands 


They  are  really   delicious 
-when  properly    treated" 


How  To  Cook 
Husbands 

%  .:'' 

By  ELIZABETH  STRONG  WORTHINGTON 

Author  of  "The 
Little  Brown  Dog" 
"The  Biddy  Club" 


Published  at  220  East  23rd  St.,  New  York 
by  the  Dodge  Publishing  Company 


COPYRIGHT  IN  THE  YEAR 
EIGHTEEN  HUNDRED  AND 
NINETY-EIGHT  BY  DODGE 
STATIONERY  COMPANY 


PS 


Dedication 

To  a  dear  little  girl  who  will  some 
day,  I  hope,  be  skilled  in  all  branches 
of  matrimonial  cookery. 


I 


A  WHILE  ago  I  came  across  a  news- 
paper clipping — a  recipe  written  by  a  Bal- 
timore lady — that  had  long  lain  dormant 
in  my  desk.  It  ran  as  follows : 

"A  great  many  husbands  are  spoiled  by 
mismanagement.  Some  women  go  about 
it  as  if  their  husbands  were  bladders,  and 
blow  them  up ;  others  keep  them  constantly 
in  hot  water;  others  let  them  freeze,  by 
their  carelessness  and  indifference.  Some 
keep  them  in  a  stew,  by  irritating  ways  and 
words ;  others  roast  them ;  some  keep  them 
in  pickle  all  their  lives.  Now  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  that  any  husband  will  be  good, 
managed  in  this  way — turnips  wouldn't; 


10  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

onions  wouldn't ;  cabbage-heads  wouldn't, 
and  husbands  won't;  but  they  are  really 
delicious  when  properly  treated. 

''In  selecting  your  husband  you  should 
not  be  guided  by  the  silvery  appearance, 
as  in  buying  mackerel,  or  by  the  golden 
tint,  as  if  you  wanted  salmon.  Be  sure  to 
select  him  yourself,  as  taste  differs.  And 
by  the  way,  don't  go  to  market  for  him, 
as  the  best  are  always  brought  to  your 
door. 

"It  is  far  betfer  to  have  none,  unless 
you  patiently  learn  to  cook  him.  A  pre- 
serving kettle  of  the  finest  porcelain  is  the 
best,  but  if  you  have  nothing  but  an 
earthenware  pipkin,  it  will  do,  with  care. 

"See  that  the  linen,  in  Avhich  you  wrap 
him,  is  nicely  washed  and  mended,  with 
the  required  amount  of  buttons  and  strings, 
nicely  sewed  on.  Tie  him  in  the  kettle 
with  a  strong  cord  called  Comfort,  as  the 
one  called  Duty  is  apt  to  be  weak.  They 
sometimes  fly  out  of  the  kettle,  and  become 
burned  and  crusty  on  the  edges,  since,  like 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  11 

crabs  and  oysters,  you  have  to  cook  them 
alive. 

"Make  a  clear,  strong,  steady  fire  out  of 
Love,  Neatness,  and  Cheerfulness.  Set 
him  as  near  this  as  seems  to  agree  with  him. 
If  he  sputters  and  fizzles,  don't  be  anxious ; 
some  husbands  do  this  till  they  are  quite 
done.  Add  a  little  sugar,  in  the  form  of 
what  confectioners  call  Kisses,  but  no  vine- 
gar or  pepper  on  any  account.  A  little 
spice  improves  them,  Ipnt  it  must  be  used 
with  judgment. 

"Don't  stick  any  sharp  instrument  into 
him,  to  see  if  he  is  becoming  tender.  .Stir 
him  gently;  watching  the  while  lest  he 
should  lie  too  close  to  the  kettle,  and  so  be- 
come inert  and  useless. 

"You  cannot  fail  to  know  when  he  is 
done.  If  thus  treated,  you  will  find  him 
very  digestible,  agreeing  nicely  with  you 
and  the  children. " 

"So.  they  are  better  cooked,"  I  said  to 
myself,  "that  is  why  we  hear  of  such 
numbers  of  cases  of  marital  indigestion — 


12  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

the  husbands  are  served  raw — fresh — un- 
prepared. " 

"They  are  really  delicious  when  properly 
treated," — I  wonder  if  that  is  so. 

But  I  must  pause  here  to  tell  you  a  bit 
about  myself.  I  am  not  an  old  maid,  but, 
at  the  time  this  occurs,  I  am  unmarried, 
and  I  am  thirty-four  years  old — not 
quite  beyond  the  pale  of  hope.  Men  and 
women  never  do  pass  beyond  that — not 
those  of  sanguine  temperament  at  any  rate. 
I  am  neither  rich  nor  poor,  but  repose  in  a 
comfortable  stratum  betwixt  and  between. 
I  keep  house,  or  rather  it  keeps  me,  and  a 
respectable  woman  who,  with  her  hus- 
band, manages  my  domestic  affairs,  lends 
the  odor  of  sanctity  and  propriety  to  my 
single  existence.  I  am  of  medium  height, 
between  blond  and  brunette,  and  am  said  to 
have  a  modicum  of  both  brains  and  good 
looks. 

The  recipe  I  read  set  me  a-thinking. 
I  was  in  my  library,  before  a  big  log  fire. 
The  room  was  comfortable;  glowing  with 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  13 

rich,  warm  firelight  at  that  moment,  but 
it  was  lonesome,  and  I  was  lonely. 

Supposing,  I  said  to  myself,  I  really  had 
a  husband ;  how  should  I  cook  him? 

The  words  of  an  old  lady  came  into  my 
mind.  She  had  listened  to  this  particular 
recipe,  and  after  a  moment's  silence  had 
leaned  over,  and  whispered  in  my  ear : 

"First  catch  your  fish." 

But  supposing  he  were  now  caught,  and 
seated  in  that  rocker  across  from  me,  be- 
fore this  blazing  fire. 

I  walked  to  the  window — to  one  side  of 
me  lives  a  little  thrush,  at  least  she  is  trim 
and  comely,  and  always  dresses  in  brown. 
Just  now  she  is  without  her  door,  stooping 
over  her  baby,  who  is  sitting  like  a  tiny 
queen  in  her  chariot,  just  returned  from 
an  airing. 

It  isn't  the  question  of  husband  alone — 
he  might  be  managed — roasted,  stewed,  or 
parboiled,  but  it's  the  whole  family — a 
household.  Take  the  children,  for  in- 
stance ;  if  they  could  be  set  up  on  shelves  in 


14  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

glass  cases,  as  fast  as  they  came,  all  might 
be  well,  but  they  will  run  around,  and 
Heaven  only  knows  what  they  will  run 
into.  Why,  had  I  children,  I  should  plug 
both  ears  with  cotton,  for  fear  I  should 
hear  the  door-bell.  I  know  it  would  ring 
constantly,  and  such  messages  as  these 
would  be  hurled  in : 

"Several  of  them  have  been  arrested  for 
blowing  up  the  neighbors  with  dynamite 
firecrackers. " 

"Half  a  dozen  of  them  have  tumbled  from 
off  the  roof  of  the  house.  They  escaped 
injury,  but  have  thrown  a  nervous  lady, 
over  the  way,  into  spasms." 

"One  or  two  of  them  have  just  been 
dragged  from  beneath  the  electric  cars. 
They  seem  to  be  as  well  as  ever,  but  three 
of  the  passengers  died  of  fright. " 

Just  think  of  that!     What  should  Idol-- 
Keep an  extra  maid  to  answer  the  bell, 
I  suppose,  and  two  or  three  thousand  dol- 
lars by  me  continually,  to  pay  damages. 
What  a  time  poor  Job  had  of  it  answer- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  15 

ing  his  door  bell,  and  how  very  unpleasant 
it  must  have  been  to  receive  so  many  pieces 
of  news  of  that  sort,  in  one  morning! 

Clearly  I  am  better  off  in  my  childless 
condition,  and  yet 

Little  Mrs.  Thrush  is  just  kissing  her 
soft,  round-faced  cherub.  I  wish  she 
would  do  that  out  of  sight. 

Now  as  to  husbands  again,  if  I  had  one, 
what  should  I  do  with  him? 

I  might  say,  Sit  down. 

Supposing  he  wouldn't.     What  then? 

Cudgels  are  out  of  date.  Were  he  an 
alderman,  I  might  take  a  Woman's  Club 
to  him,  but  a  husband  has  been  known  to 
laugh  this  instrument  to  scorn. 

But  supposing  he  sat  down.  What 
then?  He  might  be  a  gentleman  of  irasci- 
ble, nasty  temper,  and  in  walking  about 
my  room,  I  might  step  on  his  feet.  These 
irritable  folk  have  such  large  feet,  at  least 
they  are  always  in  the  way,  and  always 
being  stepped  on  no  matter  how  careful 
one  tries  to  be. 


16  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

What  then? 

I  decline  to  cpnt  :mplat   the  scene. 

Plainly  I  am  better  off  bingle. 

I  walk  to  my  front  window,  and  stretch 
my  arms  above  my  head.  There  is  a 
light  fall  of  snow  upon  the  ground.  This 
late  snow  is  trying:  in  its  season,  it  is 
beautiful ;  but  out  of  season,  it  breeds  a 
sheerlessness  that'  emphasises  one's  loneli- 
ness. I  look  out  through  the  leafless  trees 
toward  the  lake,  but  it  is  hidden  by  the 
whirling,  eddying  snowflakes.  I  see  Mr. 
Thrush  hurrying  home  to  his  little  nest. 

'•'Yes,"  I  say  to  myself,  repeating  my 
last  thought  with  a  certain  obstinacy, 
"yes,  I  am  better  off  without  a  husband, 
and  yet  I  wish  I  had  one — one  would  an- 
swer, on  a  pinch — one  at  a  time,  at  least. 
A  husband  is  like  a  world  in  that  respect ; 
one  at  a  time,  is  the  proper  proportion. " 

"It's  far  better  to  have  none,  unless  you 
learn  to  cook  him."  These  words  re- 
curred to  me,  just  as  I  was  on  the  point  of 
taking  a  life  partner,  in  a  figurative  sense. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  17 

The  woman  that  deliberates  is  lost;  con- 
sequently, as  it  won't  do  to  think  the  mat- 
ter over,  I  plunge  in. 

My  spouse  is  now  pacing  up  and  down 
the  room  in  a  rampant  manner,  complain- 
ing of  his  dinner,  the  world  in  general, 
and  me  in  particular. 

What  am  I  to  do? 

Charles  Reade  has  written  a  recipe  that 
applies. very  well  just  here.  It  is  briefly 


"Put  yourself  in  his  place." 

I  could  not  have  done  this  a  few  years 
ago,  but  now  I  can.  Never,  until  I  under- 
took the  management  of  my  business 
affairs — never  until  I  had  some  knowledge 
of  business  cares  and  anxieties,  the  weight 
of  notes  falling  due;  the  charge  of  busi- 
ness honor  to  keep;  the  excited  hope  of 
fortunate  prospects;  and  the  depression 
following  hard  upon  failure  and  disap- 
pointment— never  until  I  learned  all  this, 
did  I  realize  what  home  should  mean  to  a 
man,  and  how  far  wide  of  the  mark  many 


18  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

women  shoot,  when  they  aim  to  establish 
a  restful  retreat  for  their  husbands. 

I  have  returned  to  my  domicile,  after  a 
fatiguing  day  up  town,  with  a  feeling  of 
exhaustion  that  lies  far  deeper  than  the 
mere  physical  structure — a  spent  feeling 
as  if  I  have  given  my  all,  and  must  be  re- 
plenished before  I  can  make  another 
move.  I  once  had  a  housekeeper  whose 
very  face  I  dreaded  at  such  times.  She 
always  took  advantage  of  my  silence  and 
my  limp  condition,  to  relate  the  day's  dis- 
asters. She  had  no  knowledge  of  what  a 
good  dinner  meant,  and  no  tact  in  falling 
in  with  my  tastes  or  needs.  On  the  con- 
trary, if  there  was  a  dish  I  disliked,  it  was 
sure  to  appear  on  those  most  weary  even- 
ings. In  brief,  from  the  very  moment  I 
reached  home,  she  did  nothing  but  brush 
my  fur  up,  instead  of  down,  and  I  did 
nothing  but  spit  at  her. 

Now,  many  women  are  like  this  house- 
keeper. I  wonder  their  husbands  don't 
slay  them.  If  you  would  look  out  in  my 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  19 

back  yard,  I  fear  you  would  see  the  bones 
of  several  of  these  tactless,  exasperating 
housekeepers,  bleaching  in  the  wind  and 
rain. 

I  marvel  that  other  back  yards  are  not 
filled  with  the  bones  of  stupid,  tactless, 
irritating  wives.  The  fact  that  no  such 
horror  has  as  yet  been  unearthed,  bears 
eloquent  testimony  to  the  noble  self-control 
and  patience  of  many  of  the  sterner  sex. 

"Oh,  that  sounds  well,"  said  my  neigh- 
bor, over  the  way,  "but  then  you  forget 
we  women  have  our  trials  too. " 

"Is  it  going  to  diminish  those  trials  to 
make  a  raging  lion  out  of  your  husband?/ 

*'No,  but  he  ought  to  understand  that 
we  are  tired,  and  that  our  work  is  hard. " 

"Certainly,"  I  said,  "by  all  means;  and 
by  the  time  he  thoroughly  understands, 
you  generally  have  occasion  to  be  still 
more  tired." 

"Well,  what  would  you  do?" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'd  do;  follow  the 
advice  of  a  sensible  little  friend  of  mine, 


20  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

who  has  four  children  all  of  an  age,  and 
has  incompetent  service  to  rely  on,  when 
she  has  any  at  all. " 

"And  what  is  that,  pray?" 

"She  says  that  come  rain,  hail,  or  fiery 
vapor,  she  takes  a  nap  every  day." 

"I  don't  know  how  she  manages  it ;  I 
can't,  and  I  have  one  less  child  than  she, 
and  a  fairly  good  maid." 

"Her  children  are  trained,  as  children 
should  be;  the  three  younger  ones  take 
long  naps  after  luncheon,  and  while  they 
are  sleeping,  she  gives  the  oldest  child 
some  picture  book  to  look  at,  and  simple 
stories  to  read,  and  she  herself  goes  to 
sleep  in  the  same  room  with  him.  The 
little  fellow  keeps  as  still  as  a  mouse. " 

"I  think  that  is  a  cruel  shame." 

"So  do  I.  It  would  be  far  kinder  if  she 
let  him  have  his  liberty,  and  stayed  up  to 
take  care  of  him,  and  then  became  so  tired 
out  that,  by  the  time  her  husband  came 
home  she  would  be  unable  to  keep  her 
mouth  (closed  for  it  is  only  a  well  rested 


How  To  Cook  Husbands*  21 

woman     who    can    maintain    a    cheerful 
silence),  and  avoid  a  family  quarrel." 

"No,  I  think  it's  better  not  to  quarrel, 
but  I  can't  take  a  nap,  and  often  I'm  so 
tired  when  Fred  comes  home,  that,  if  he 
happens  to  be  tired  too,  it's  just  like  put- 
ting fire  to  gunpowder. " 

I  knew  that,  for  I  had  heard  the  explo- 
sions from  across  the  street.  You  know 
in  our  climate,  in  the  summer,  people 
practically  live  in  the  street,  with  every 
window  and  door  open;  your  neighbor  has 
full  possession  of  all  remarks  above  E. 
And  most  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Purblind's 
notes  on  the  tired  nights,  are  above  E. 

I  have  no  patience  with  that  woman, 
anyhow.  She  hasn't  4he  first  idea  of  com- 
fort and  good  cheer.  Her  rooms  are  al- 
ways in  disorder,  and  there  is  no  sugges- 
tion of  harmony  in  the  furniture  (on  the 
contrary  every  article  seems,  as  the  French 
say),  to  be  swearing  at  every  other  article; 
all  her  lights  are  high — why,  I've  run  in 
there  of  an  evening  and  found  that  man 


22  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

wandering  around  like  an  uneasy  ghost, 
trying  to  find  some  easy  spot  in  which  he 
could  sit  down,  and  read  his  paper  com- 
fortably. He  didn't  know  what  was  the 
matter — the  poor  wretches  don't,  but  he 
was  like  a  cat  on  an  unswept  hearth. 

In  contrast  to  this  woman's  stupidity, 
I  have  the  natural  loveliness  of  the  little 
brown  thrush,  on  my  one  side,  and  the 
hoary-headed  wisdom  of  Mrs.  Owl,  on  my 
other  side. 

Look  at  the  latter  a  moment.  Not 
worth  looking  at,  you  say;  angular,  with- 
out beauty  of  form  or  feature.  Nothing 
but  the  humorous  curve  to  her  lips,  and 
the  twinkle  in  her  eye,  to  attract  one; 
nothing,  unless  it  were  a  general  air  of 
neatness,  intelligence,  and  good  humor. 

But  I  assure  you  that  woman's  worth 
living  with  if  she  is  not  worth  looking  at ! 

Now  her  spouse  is  one  of  those  lowering 
fellows,  the  kind  that  seems  to  be  at  outs 
with  mankind.  Just  the  material  to  be- 
come sulky  in  any  but  the  most  skillful 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  23 

hands,  the  sort  to  degenerate  into  a  posi- 
tive brute,  in  such  blundering  hands  as 
Mrs.  Purblind's  over  the  way. 

I  had  a  chance  to  watch  this  man  one 
evening  last  summer.  Having  no  domestic 
affairs  of  my  own,  as  a  matter  of  course  I 
feel  myself  entitled  to  share  my  neighbors'. 
And  this  particular  evening  I  was  lonely. 
It  was  a  nasty  night,  the  fog  blown  in  from 
the  lake  slapped  one  rudely  in  the  face 
every  time  one  looked  out,  and  the  air  was 
as  raw  as  a  new  wound — it  went  clear  to 
the  bone. 

Now  on  such  a  night  as  this  I  have 
known  Mrs.  Purblind  to  serve  her  lord 
cold  veal  and  lettuce,  simple  because  it  was 
July,  and  a  suitable  time  for  heat.  And 
I  assure  you  that  sufficient  heat  was  gen- 
erated before  this  cold  supper  was  con- 
sumed. But  to  return  to  Mrs.  Owl,  on 
that  particular  night.  I  saw  her  watching 
at  door  and  window,  for  her  partner  was 
late.  I  peeped  into  the  parlor,  and  it  was 
as  cosy  and  inviting  as  a  glowing  fire,  a 


24  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

shaded  lamp,  and  a  comfortable  sofa 
wheeled  near  the  table,  could  make  it. 

By  and  by,  he  came  glowering  along. 
What  will  she  say,  I  asked  myself.  Will 
it  be: 

"Oh,  how  late  you  are!  What's  the 
matter?  What  kept  you?  Well,  come  in, 
you  must  be  cold.  Lie  down  on  the  sofa 
while  I  get  supper,  but  don't  put  your  feet 
up  till  I  get  a  paper  for  them  to  rest  on." 

All  this  would  have  answered  well 
enough  with  a  decent  sort  of  a  man,  but 
this  homo  required  peculiar  treatment. 

It  was  what  she  didn't  say  that  was 
most  remarkable. 

After  a  cheerful  "How-de-do"  she  didn't 
speak  a  word  for  some  time,  but  walked 
into  the  house  humming  a  lively  air,  and 
busied  herself  with  his  supper.  She  didn't 
set  this  in  the  dining  room,  but  right  be- 
fore that  open  fire.  Without  any  fuss  or 
commotion  she  broiled  a  piece  of  steak 
over  those  glowing  coals,  while  over  her 
big  lamp  she  made  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  in 


How  To  Cook  Husbands,  25 

her  chafing  dish  prepared  some  creamed 
potatoes.  She  had  bread  and  butter  ready, 
and  some  little  dessert,  and  so  with  a  wave 
of  a  fairy  wand,  as  it  seemed,  there  was 
the  cosiest,  most  tempting  little  supper  you 
ever  saw  on  the  table  at  his  side. 

Meanwhile  he  had  found  the  sofa, 
the  fire,  and  the  lamp,  and  was  reading 
his  paper.  He  threw  the  latter  down 
when  supper  was  announced,  and  she 
joined  him  at  the  table ;  poured  his  coffee, 
ate  a  bit  now  and  then  for  company, 
and  talked — why,  how  that  woman  did 
talk !  I  couldn't  hear  a  word  that  she  said, 
but  I  knew  by  the  expression  of  her  face  it 
was  humorous;  and  laugh,  how  she 
laughed !  and  erelong  he  joined  in — why, 
once  he  leaned  back,  and  actually  ha- 
haed. 

When  supper  was  over,  she  left  him  to 
his  paper  again,  while  she  cleared  every- 
thing away.  Later  on  she  joined  him, 
and  the  next  I  knew  they  were  playing 
chess,  and  still  later,  talking  and  reading 
aloud. 


26  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

This  is  but  a  sample  of  her  life  with  him 
— in  everything  she  consults  his  mood,  his 
comfort,  his  tastes.  She  never  jars  him — 
never  rubs  him  the  wrong  way,  and  mean- 
while she  has  all  she  wants,  for  she  can  do 
anything  with  him,  and  he  thinks  the  sun 
rises  and  sets  with  her. 

It  is  a  good  cook  that  makes  an  appetiz- 
ing dish  out  of  poor  material,  and  when  a 
woman  makes  a  delicious  husband  out  of 
little  or  nothing  she  may  rank  as  a  chef. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  27 


n 


You  may  say  all  I  have  been  describing 
belongs  more  properly  to  little  Mrs. 
Thrush,  on  my  right.  Bless  you!  that 
woman  doesn't  have  to  think  and  plan  to 
make  things  comfortable.  Were  she  set 
down  in  the  desert  of  Sahara,  she  would 
sweep  it  up,  spread  a  rug;  hang  a  few 
draperies,  and  lo !  it  would  be  cosy  and 
home-like.  She  can't  help  being  and  doing 
just  right,  wherever  she  is  put,  and  her 
husband  is  just  like  her,  as  good  as  gold. 
Why,  that  man  would  bore  a  woman  of 
ingenuity — a  woman  who  had  a  genius  for 
contriving  and  managing.  He  doesn't 
need  any  cooking;  he's  ready  to  serve  just 


28  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

as  he  is,  couldn't  be  improved.  There's 
absolutely  nothing  to  be  done.  Mrs.  Owl 
would  get  a  divorce  from  him  inside  of  a 
month,  on  the  ground  of  insipidity.  Her 
fine  capabilities  for  making  much  out  of 
nothing,  would  turn  saffron  for  lack  of 
use.  Mr.  Owl  is  the  mate  for  her.  To 
every  man  according  to  his  taste;  to  every 
woman  according  to  her  need. 

I  am  lying  in  the  hammock,  under  the 
soft  maple  tree  in  my  side  yard,  speculat- 
ing on  all  these  matters.  Summer  is  now 
upon  us,  for  we  are  in  the  midst  of  June. 
Yesterday  was  one  of  Lowell's  rare  days, 
but  this  morning  the  thermometer  took 
offense,  and  rose  in  fury.  I  can  see  the 
quivering  air  as  it  radiates  from  the  dusty, 
sun-beaten  road,  and  a  certain  drowsy 
hum  in  the  atmosphere,  palpable  only  to 
the  trained  ear,  tells  of  the  great  heat. 
Some  of  my  neighbors  are  sitting  on  their 
galleries,  reading  or  sewing;  some,  like 
myself,  are  lolling  in  hammocks ;  even  the 
voices  of  the  children  have  a  certain  monot- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  29 

onous  tone,  in  harmony  with  the  stupid 
heaviness  of  the  day.  Only  the  birds  and 
squirrels  show  any  life  or  spirit;  theformer 
are  twittering  above  my  head,  courting,  it 
may  be,  or  possibly  discussing  some  detail 
of  household  economy.  They  hop  from 
bough  to  bough,  touch  up  their  plumage, 
and  chirp  in  a  cheerful,  happy  sort  of 
fashion,  as  if  this  was  their  especial 
weather,  as  indeed  it  is.  Up  yonder  tree, 
a  squirrel  is  racing  about,  in  the  exuber- 
ance of  his  glee.  He  has  done  up  his 
work,  no  doubt,  and  now  is  off  for  a  frolic. 
I  lie  here,  not  a  stone's  throw  from  him. 
watching  his  merry  antics,  and  rejoicing 
to  think  how  free  from  fear  he  is,  when  all 
at  once  the  leaves  of  his  tree  are  cut  by  a 
flying  missile,  and  the  next  second  1  see  iu> 
gay  fellow  tumble  headlong  from  the 
bough,  and  fall  in  a  helpless  little  heap  on 
the  grass.  I  start  up  in  affright,  and  hear 
a  passing  boy  call  out  to  another,  over  the 
way, 

"I  brought  him  down,  Jim." 


30  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

Involuntarily  I  clinch  my  hands. 

"You  little  coward!"  I  exclaim,  "it  is 
you  who  should  be  brought  down !  You 
are  too  mean  to  live. " 

He  laughs  brutally,  and  goes  on,  whis- 
tling indifferently,  while  I  pick  up  the  dead 
squirrel  lying  at  my  feet. 

I  find  myself  crying,  before  I  know  it. 
Not  alone  with  pity  for  the  squirrel ;  some- 
thing else  is  hurting  me. 

"Is  this  the  masculine  nature?"  I  ask 
some  one — I  don't  know  whom. 

Perhaps  it  is  one  of  those  questions 
which  are  flung  upward,  in  a  blind  kind  of 
way,  and  which  God  sometimes  catches 
and  answers. 

"Are  they  made  this  way?  Was  it 
meant  that  they  should  be  brutal?" 

I  am  still  holding  the  squirrel  and  think- 
ing, when  I  hear  my  name,  and  turning 
see  my  neighbor  over  the  way,  Mrs.  Pur- 
blind's  brother,  standing  near  me. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Chance,"  I  say, 
rather  coldly. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  31 

All  men  are  hateful  to  me  at  that  mo- 
ment ;  to  my  mind  they  all  have  that  boy'g 
nature,  though  they  keep  it  under  cover 
until  they  know  you  well,  or  have  you  in 
their  power. 

"The  little  fellow  is  dead,  I  suppose," 
he  said. 

"Yes,"  I  answer  with  a  sob  which  I 
turn  away  to  conceal.  I  don't  wish  to  ex- 
cite his  mirth.  Of  course  he  would  only 
see  something  laughable  in  my  grief,  and 
he  couldn't  dream  what  I  am  thinking 
about. 

"You  mustn't  be  too  hard  on  the 'boy, 
Miss  Leigh, "he  says  quietly;  "it  was  a 
brutal  act,  but  that  same  aggressiveness 
will  one  day  give  him  power  to  battle  in 
life  against  difficulties  and  temptations  as 
well.  It  will  make  him  able  to  protect 
those  whom  a  kind  Providence  may  put  in 
his  charge.  Just  now  he  doesn't  know 
what  to  do  with  the  force,  and  evidently 
has  not  had  good  teaching.  I'm  sorry  he 
did  this;  it  hurts  me  to  see  an  innocent 


32  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

oreature  harmed,  and  still  more  I  am  sorry 
because  it  has  hurt  you. " 

He  is  standing  near  me  now,  and  as  I 
raise  my  eyes,  I  find  him  looking  at  me 
with  a  sweet  earnestness,  that  wins  me  not 
only  to  forgive  him  for  being  a  man,  but 
to  feel  that  perhaps  men  are  noble,  after 
all. 

His  look  and  tone  linger  with  me  long 
after  he  has  gone,  as  a  cadence  of  music 
may  vibrate  through  the  soul  when  both 
musician  and  instrument  are  mute. 

The  day  after  this  of  which  I  have  been 
tolling,  I  went  to  a  picnic  gotten  up  by 
Mrs.  Purblind,  for  the  entertainment  and 
delectation  of  Mr.  Purblind's  cousin,  now 
visiting  her,  a  frivolous  young  thing,  be- 
tween whom  and  myself  there  was  not 
even  the  weather  in  common,  for  she 
would  label  "simply  horrid"  a  lovely  gray 
day,  containing  all  sorts  of  possibilities  for 
the  imagination  behind  its  mists  and 
clouds. 

"I  didn't  care  for  this  picnic,  and  didn't 


jrfow  To  Cook  Husbands.  33 

see  why  I  was  invited  as  most  of  the 
guests  were  younger  than  myself.  But  it 
was  one  of  those  cases  where  a  refusal 
might  be  misconstrued,  and  so  I  went. 
We  sat  around  the  white  tablecloth  en 
masse,  for  dinner ;  and  in  the  course  of  the 
passing  of  viands,'  Miss  Sprig  was  asked 
to  help  herself  to  olives  that  happened  to 
be  near  her. 

"Yes,  do,  while  you  have  opportunity," 
said  Mrs.  Purblind. 

"I  always  embrace  opportunity,"  replied 
Miss  Sprig  with  a  simper.  Whereat  Mr. 
Chance,  sitting  next  her,  suggested  that, 
as  a  synonym  of  opportunity,  possibly  he 
might  stand  in  its  stead. 

I  detest  such  speeches,  they  are  properly 
termed  soft,  for  they  certainly  are  mushy 
— lacking  in  stamina — fiber  of  any  sort. 
But  I  could  have  endured  it,  as  I  had  en- 
dured much  else  of  the  same  sort  that  day, 
had  it  not  come  from  Mr.  Chance.  It 
may  be  foolish  of  me,  but  his  tone  and  Ins 
words  of  the  day  before  were  still  with 


34:  How  To  Cook  Husbands* 

me.  They  were  so  dignified,  so  sensible, 
so  manly,  that  I  respected  and  admired 
him.  Up  to  that  time  I  had  not  felt  that 
I  knew  him,  but  after  he  spoke  in  that 
way,  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  acquainted. 
Now  I  saw  how  utterly  mistaken  I  had 
been,  and  I  was  mortified  and  disgusted. 

The  silly  little  speech  I  have  quoted 
was  not  all,  by  any  means;  there  were 
more  of  the  same  kind,  and  actions  that 
corresponded.  Evidently  he  was  one  of 
those  instruments  which  are  played  upon  at 
will  by  the  passing  zephyr.  With  a  self- 
respecting  woman,  he  was  manly ;  with  a 
vapid,  bold  girl,  he  was  silly  and  familiar. 
I  decided  that  I  liked  something  more 
stable,  something  that  could  be  depended 
upon. 

I  was  placed  in  a  difficult  position  just 
then.  Had  I  acted  upon  my  impulse,  I 
should  have  risen  and  walked  off — such 
conduct  is  an  affront  to  womanhood,  I 
think ;  but  I  was  held  in  my  place  by  a 
fear — foolish,  yet  grounded,  that  my  action 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  35 

would  be  regarded  as  an  expression  of 
jealousy,  the  jealousy  of  an  old  maid,  of  a 
woman  much  younger  and  prettier  than 
herself.  This  is  hut  one  of  the  many  in- 
stances of  the  injustice  of  the  world.  I 
don't  think  that  I  am  addicted  to  jealousy, 
but  I  may  not  know  myself.  Possibly  I 
might  have  felt  jealous  had  I  been  eclipsed 
by  a  beautiful  or  gifted  woman,  but  it 
would  be  impossible  for  me  to  experience 
any  such  emotion  on  seeing  a  man  with 
whom  I  have  but  a  slight  acquaintance, 
devote  himself  to  a  girl  whom  I  should 
regard  as  not  only  my  mental  inferior,  but 
also  as  beneath  me  morally  and  socially  as 
well.  The  only  sensation  of  which  I  was 
cognizant  was  a  disgust  toward  the  man, 
and  mortification  over  the  mistaken  esti- 
mate of  his  character,  that  had  led  me,  the 
day  before,  to  suppose  him  on  a  footing 
with  myself.  , 

As  soon  as  possible  after  dinner  I 
slipped  away  for  a  stroll.  The  place  was 
very  lovely,  and  I  felt  that  if  I  could  creep 


36  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

off  i  nth  Mother  Nature,  she  would  smooth 
some  cross-grained,  fretful  wrinkles  that 
were  gathering  in  my  mind,  and  were  sad- 
dening my  soul.  So  when  the  folly  and 
jesting  were  at  their  height  I  dipped  into 
the  thicket  near  at  hand,  and  dodging  here 
and  there,  jumping  fallen  logs,  and  un- 
tangling my  way  among  the  vines  which 
embraced  the  stern  old  woods  like  seduc- 
tive sirens,  I  at  last  struck  a  shaded  path, 
which  erelong  led  me  down  through  a 
ravine  to  the  waters  of  the  big  old  lake. 
It  too  had  dined,  but  instead  of  yielding 
itself  to  folly,  was  taking  its  siesta. 
Across  its  tranquil  bosom  the  zephyrs 
played,  stirring  ripples  and  tiny  eddies,  as 
dreams  may  stir  lights  and  shadows  on  the 
sleeping  face. 

I  had  not  walked  along  the  beach,  with 
the  waves  sighing  at  my  feet,  and  whis- 
pering all  sorts  of  soothing  nothings,  for  a 
great  distance,  before  I  began  to  experience 
that  uncomfortable  reaction  which  some- 
times arises  from  splitting  in  two,  as  it 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  37 

were,  standing  off  at  a  distance  and  look- 
ing oneself  in  the  face.  I  realized  that  I 
had  been  something  of  a  prig  and  consid- 
erable of  a  Pharisee.  My  late  discomfort 
was  not  caused  by  the  fact  that  a  young 
girl  had  cheapened  herself,  but  by  the  fact 
that  a  man  had  demeaned  himself  and  in 
a  manner  involved  me,  inasmuch  as  I  had 
been  led  the  day  before  by  a  false  estimate 
of  his  character  to  regard  him  as  my  social 
equal.  After  all  it  was  this  last  that  hurt 
most;  it  was  my  little  self  and  not  my 
brother  about  whom  I  was  chiefly  con- 
cerned. 

I  am  not  naturally  sentimental  or  mor- 
bid, so  I  merely  decided  that  internally  I 
had  made  a  goose  of  myself  and  not  shown 
any  surplus  of  nobility ;  and  with  a  little 
sigh  of  satisfaction  that  I  had  given  the 
small  world  about  me  no  sign  of  my  folly, 
I  dismissed  the  subject  and  betook  myself 
to  an  eager  enjoyment  of  the  day. 

The  soft  June  breeze  played  with  my 
hair  and  gently  and  affectionately  touched 


38  How  To  Cook  Husbands* 

my  face ;  the  lake  quivering  and  rippling 
\vith  passing  emotions  stretched  away  from 
me  toward  that  other  shore  which  it  kept 
secreted  somewhere  on  its  farther  side. 
The  very  sight  of  it,  with  its  shimmering 
greens,  turquoise  blue,  and  tawny  yellow, 
cooled  and  soothed  me,  and  ere  I  knew  it, 
I  had  slipped  into  a  pleasant,  active  specu- 
lation on  matters  of  larger  interest  than 
the  petty  subjects  which  had  lined  my 
brow  a  moment  before.  I  was  walking 
directly  toward  one  of  my  families,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  I  might  run  in  and 
make  a  call,  while  I  was  near  at  hand.  I 
had  first  become  interested  in  them  at 
church.  I  was  impressed  by  their  cleanli- 
ness and  regularity  of  attendance,  and  by 
a  certain  judicious  arrangement  of  their 
children — the  parents  always  sitting  so  as 
to  separate  the  latter  by  their  authority 
and  order. 

Another  point  that  claimed  my  atten- 
tion was  that  the  children,  were  changed 
each  Sunday — a  fresh  three  succeeding  the 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  39 

first  bunch,  and  on  the  third  Sunday,  one 
of  the  first  three  being  added  to  a  fresh 
two,  to  make  up  the  proper  complement. 
Both  parents  had  a  self-respecting,  self- 
sacrificing  look,  as  of  people  who  had 
learned  to  help  themselves  cautiously  from 
the  family  dish,  and  to  "put  their  knives 
to  their  throats"  before  time;  but  kept  alJ 
this  to  themselves,  asking  nothing  from 
anyone,  and  making  their  little  answer 
without  murmur  or  complaint.  I  had, 
for  some  time,  realized  that  the  child  who 
was  now  getting  more  than  his  share  of 
sermons,  by  reappearing  on  the  third  Sun- 
day, would  soon  be  reduced  to  the  level  of 
his  brethren,  and  a  new  relative  would 
take  the  place  which  he  had  been  filling  as 
a  matter  of  accommodation.  I  sought 
occasion  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
mother  of  this  fine  brood,  on  the  pretext  of 
some  church  work,  and  after  that  became 
a  regular  visitor  at  their  little  home.  The 
perfect  equality  of  the  parents;  the  defer- 
ence with  which  they  treated  one  another; 


40  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

and  their  quiet  happiness,  in  spite  of  all 
labor  and  privation,  made  me  realize  that 
they  might  well  extend  a  pitving  thought 
to  some  of  the  apparently  wealthy  mem- 
bers of  the  church.  We  may  yet  live  to 
see  the  day  when  a  new  scale  shall  come  in 
vogue,  and  some  Croesus  who  now  stands 
in  an  enviable  light,  shall  then  pass  into  his 
true  position,  and  become  an  object  of  pity. 
Mere  dollars  and  cents  are  a  misleading 
criterion  of  poverty  and  wealth. 

I  had  seen  my  friends,  and  found  that 
the  mother  and  her  new  nestling  were  in 
comparative  comfort,  and  I  was  on  the 
homeward  stretch  along  the  beach,  when  I 
saw  Mr.  Chance  walking  toward  me. 

"I  was  commissioned  to  look  you  up," 
he  said. 

"Thank  you,"  I  replied,  "I  have  been 
of  age  for  some  years. " 

Of  course  he  noticed  the  coolness  in  my 
voice,  and  in  some  way  I  divined  that  he 
knew  the  cause. 

We  went  aboard  our  homeward-bound 
train  about  5  o'clock. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  41 

Mr.  Chance  helped  me  on,  and  evidently 
expected  to  sit  with  me,  but  I  thwarted 
hiin  by  dropping  down  beside  an  elderly 
lady,  an  acquaintance  who  happened  to  be 
in  that  coach.  I  felt  no  grudge  against 
him,  but  I  didn't  care  to  have  him  pass 
from  such  a  girl  as  Miss  Sprig  to  me ;  his 
conduct  with  her  impaired  his  value  some- 
what in  my  eyes.  My  elderly  friend  saw 
and  recognized  tlie  situation,  I  am  sure, 
and  governed  her  later  remarks  accord- 
ingly. 

Mr.  Chance  passed  on,  and  took  a  seat 
with  one  of  the  superfluous  men,  for  con- 
trary to  the  rule  on  most  such  occasions, 
the  male  gender  was  in  excess  of  the 
female.  I  had  not  expected  him  to  return 
to  Miss  Sprig ;  men  always  become  satiated 
with  such  girls,  soon  or  late. 

My  elderly  acquaintance  entered  upon 
an  animated  conversation,  that  became 
more  and  more  personal,  and  finally 
reached  a  climax  when  she  leaned  over, 
and  said  in  a  semi -whisper : 


42  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"My  dear  Miss  Leigh,  you  ought  to 
marry. " 

I  had  been  told  this  a  number  of  times; 
any  one  would  suppose,  to  listen  to  some 
of  these  women,  that  I  had  but  to  put  out 
my  hand,  and  pluck  a  man  from  the  near- 
est bush. 

"I  don't  doubt  you  will  marry  some  day, 
but  I'm  afraid  you  may  not  choose  wisely" 
— here  she  lowered  her  voice  again — "after 
a  man  reaches  thirty-five  he  becomes  very 
fixed  in  his  ways,  and  I  don't  think  it's 
safe  for  a  maiden  lady  to  try  to  manage 
him;  it  needs  some  one  of  more  experi- 
ence." 

I  knew  she  had  Mr.  Chance  in  mind, 
and  I  was  so  indignant  at  being  warned 
against  a  man  who  had  never  shown  the 
first  symptom  of  any  such  folly  as  address- 
ing me,  that  the  blood  mounted  to  my 
hair. 

Observing  this,  my  elderly  companion 
whispered : 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  any  one,  in  partic- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  43 

ular,  my  dear;"  upon  which  I  grew  more 
enraged,  and  the  color  in  my  face  deepened 
until  I  must  have  resembled  an  irate  old 
turkey  gobbler — "not  of  any  one  in  par- 
ticular, my  dear;  but  on  general  principles, 
I  shouldn't  advise  such  a  match.  A.  widower 
would  be  just  the  thing  for  you,  and  there 
always  are  widowers,  and  every  year  the 
list  grows — death  makes  inroads,  you 
know." 

This  idea,  this  hope  of  a  second  crop,  as 
I  had  passed  beyond  the  first  picking,  was 
comforting.  I  knew  perfectly  well  whom 
she  had  in  mind  for  me — a  nice  fat  little 
widower,  about  fifty  years  old,  who  had 
been  held  on  the  marital  spit,  until  he  was 
done  to  a  turn. 


44  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 


Ill 


THE  summer  was  ended,  and  I  was  not 
married.  I  am  speaking  now  from  the 
standpoint  of  my  neighbors ;  to  my  mind 
life  did  not  swing  on  this  hinge.  I  had 
my  occupations — there  were  a  goodly  num- 
ber of  needy  folk  to  be  looked  after ;  there 
was  my  reading ;  my  music ;  my  friends, 
and  other  pleasures,  and  altogether  I  felt  I 
was  very  well  off.  Not  that  I  was  cynic- 
ally opposed  to  marriage;  I  intended  to 
marry,  if  the  right  man  called,  but  if  he 
did  not  I  was  content  to  end  life  as  I  had 
begun  it — in  single  blessedness. 

My  neighbors,  however,  were  of  another 
mind — I  must  marry ;  and  they  kept  mak- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  45 

ing  efforts  to  find  some  one  who  would 
fit,  trying  on  one  man  after  another,  with- 
out his  consent  or  mine,  something  as  one 
would  attempt  to  force  clothes  on  a  savage. 

But  in  spite  of  all  such  friendly  offices 
the  summer  was  ended,  and  I  was  not 
married.  I  was  thinking  of  it  on  this  par- 
ticular day,  as  I  stood  gazing  from  the 
window — thinking  of  it  with  a  sort  of 
quiet  wonder,  for  with  an  entire  neighbor- 
hood intent  upon  this  end,  it  was  rather 
surprising  that  I  was  not  double  by  this 
time.  Had  they  succeeded  I  should  now 
occupy  a  very  different  attitude.  It  is 
only  old  bachelors  and  old  maids  who 
speculate  and  theorize  on  marriage ;  when 
people  are  really  about  it,  they  say  little, 
and  (it  would  often  appear)  think  less. 

It  was  a  day  for  speculation — this  par 
ticular  one ;  the  dead  leaves  were  scurry- 
ing up  the  street  as  people  ran  for  a 
train ;  a  gusty  wind  was  carrying  all  be- 
fore it  for  the  time  being,  like  an  overbear- 
ing debater.  The  trees  shook  and  groaned, 


46  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

recoiled  and  shuddered,  like  human  crea- 
tures in  the  hlast ;  in  their  agitation  drop- 
ping hosts  of  leaves  that  immediately 
slipped  under  covert,  or  else  joined  their 
fellows  in  the  race  up  town.  The  sky  was 
non-committal,  and  the  lake  looked  dark 
and  secretive,  as  if  it  meditated  wreck  and 
disaster. 

It  was  only  the  middle  of  September, 
but  there  had  been  several  of  these  days — a 
hint,  perchance,  of  what  was  to  come  by 
and  by,  as  a  gay  waltz  strain  sometimes 
dips  into  real  life,  and  makes  one  look  in- 
ward for  a  moment. 

The  house  did  not  invite  me  just  at  this 
time,  and  the  elements  did ;  at  least  I  felt 
that  rising  within  me  which  tempted  me 
forth  to  have  a  bout  with  them. 

I  was  walking  at  a  goodly  pace  along 
the  Boulevard-— for  I  love  the  lake  in 
all  its  moods — when  two  men  with  anxious 
faces  overtook,  and  hurried  past  me. 

"There's  been  a  wreck,  miss,"  one  of 
them— a  man  I  knew — called  back. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  47 

I  quickened  my  pace,  trying  to  peer 
through  the  sullen  fog,  as  I  ran.  The 
occasional  dull  boom  of  a  gun  called 
"Help,"  from  out  the  grayness,  with 
pathetic  persistency.  Soon  another  sound 
caught  my  ear,  or  rather  vibrated  through 
my  frame,  for  the  ground  beneath  me 
seemed  to  tremble,  and  I  turned  to  see  the 
swift  oncoming  of  the  life-saving  crew 
from  a  station  below  us. 

I  had  barely  time  to  jump  one  side,  be- 
fore the  huge  wagon,  bearing  the  boat  and 
its  men,  swept  past  me,  every  one  of  those 
splendid  horses  with  his  head  lowered,  and 
his  fine  muscles  set  for  the  race. 

It  was  all  done  with  the  celerity  and 
ease  with  which  things  are  accomplished 
in  dreams.  The  sudden  halting  of  the  big 
wagon;  the  swinging  of  the  boat  to  the 
ground;  the  swift  donning  of  the  yellow 
oilskin  suits  by  the  crew ;  the  launch,  and 
before  one  had  time  to  wink,  the  strong 
strokes  in  perfect  time,  that  bore  the  boat 
up  and  down,  and  up  again,  on  those 
tumultuous  waves. 


48  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

There  were  other  spectators  beside  my- 
self, standing  with  strained  sight  and 
hearing,  and  throbbing  hearts,  upon  the 
strip  of  beach.  And  there  were  other 
workers  beside  the  crew.  I  had  thought 
we  were  a  small  community  out  there  in 
the  little  suburb,  and  I  gazed  with  wonder 
that  morning  at  the  crowd  which  seemed 
to  have  dropped  from  the  sky,  or  come  up 
from  below. 

The  men  were  chiefly  from  the  middle 
and  laboring  classes,  for  the  others  go  in 
on  early  trains,  but  Randolph  Chance  was 
there,  his  newspaper  work  giving  him  his 
mornings.  We  spoke  to  one  another,  but 
entered  into  no  conversation.  My  thought 
was  with  the  doomed  ship,  and  so  was 
his. 

"Will  any  of  you  boys  join  me  in  taking 
off  some  of  those  people?"  he  asked  the 
men  at  hand. 

"It's  a  rough  sea,  Mr.  Chance." 

"I  know  it,  but  I  understand  boating; 
1  guess  we  can  manage  it." 


How  To  Cook  Husbands,  49 

"Don't  you  think  the  life-saving  crew 
can  do  the  work?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  he  answered  shortly,  "there  won't 
be  time  for  them  to  make  enough  trips. 
Come,  boys,  here  she  goes !  Jump  in,  a  half 
dozen  of  you  that  can  pull  oars." 

There  were  boats  enough,  and  soon 
there  were  men  enough,  for  the  human 
heart  is  kind  and  brave,  and  under  a  good 
leader  men  will  walk  up  to  Death  himself 
without  flinching. 

Randolph  Chance  was  big  and  strong, 
alert,  and  self  controlled — a  good  leader. 
I  realized  all  this  just  now,  as  I  had  not 
before,  and  I  thought  how  strange  it  was 
that  so  much  goodness  should  be  bound  up 
with  so  much  folly.  It  was  the  old  story 
of  the  wheat  and  the  tares ;  and  I  said : 
"An  enemy  hath  done  this,"  and  then  I 
thought  of  Miss  Sprig. 

I  don't  like  to  dwell  on  that  morning; 
the  experience  was  new  to  me,  and  I  can't 
forget  it ;  I  can't  rid  myself  of  the  sound 
of  those  shrieks  when  the  ship  went  down. 


50  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

She  struggled  like  a  human  creature  under 
a  sudden  blow — rocked,  tottered,  quivered, 
and  then  collapsed. 

The  little  boats  made  five  trips  and 
brought  ashore  almost  all  the  passengers 
and  crew — all  but  one  woman,  and  a  little 
child. 

I  was  one  of  the  many  who  received  the 
chilled  and  frightened  victims  of  the  storm, 
and  indeed,  as  soon  as  we  were  able  to  dis- 
pose of  the  more  delicate  and  needy  ones, 
we  turned  our  thought  to  the  brave  crews 
of  the  little  boats,  for  their  exertions  had 
been  almost  superhuman,  and  they  were 
wellnigh  exhausted. 

I  bent  over  Randolph  Chance,  and 
begged  him  to  take  a  little  brandy  some 
one  had  brought. 

"Give  it  to  the  women,"  he  said  feebly. 

"They  are  all  cared  for;  I'm  going  to 
look  out  for  you  now,  Mr.  Chance." 

"I  wouldn't  feel  so  done  up,"  he  said, 
"if  it  weren't  for  that  woman.  She 
begged  me  to  save  her,  and  she  had  a  little 
child  in  her  arms, "  and  his  voice  broke. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  51 

"You  mustn't  think  of  her,"  I  said, 
"you  did  all  you  could." 

"Yes,  I  did  my  hest  to  reach  her,  but 
before  I  could  get  there,  she  went  down. 
I  can  never  forget  her  face.  Oh,  at  such 
a  time  a  fellow  can't  help  wishing  he  were 
just  a  little  quicker,  and  just  a  little 
stronger." 

He  had  risen  from  the  beach  where  he 
had  flung  himself  or  fallen,  on  leaving  the 
boat,  but  he  fell  again.  I  could  plainly 
see  that  the  exhaustion  from  which  he 
suffered  was  due  as  much  to  mental  dis- 
tress as  to  physical  effort,  and  I  thought 
no  less  of  him  for  that. 

He  was  finally  prevailed  upon  to  get  into 
the  wagon  which  had  brought  the  life-sav- 
ing crew,  and  which  was  now  loaded  down 
with  the  other  boatmen,  and  many  of  the 
passengers  from  the  wreck,  and  so,  he  was 
taken  home.  And  I  walked  back  alone, 
with  a  queer  little  feeling  somewhere  in 
the  region  of  my  heart. 

Man,  after  all,  is  a  harp,  I  said  to  my- 


52  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

self ;  a  good  player — the  right  woman  can 
draw  forth  wonderful  music,  but  the 
wrong  woman  will  call  out  nothing  but 
discords. 

Materials  don't  count  for  everything; 
there's  a  deal  in  the  cooking. 

I  was  on  my  way  home,  when  I  met 
two  of  my  neighbors  hurrying  toward  the 
scene — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Daemon. 

"You're  too  late,"  I  said,  "it's  all  over." 

"I  only  heard  of  it  a  little  while  ago ;" 
said  Mrs.  Daemon;  "I  was  in  the  city,  and 
I  met  Mr.  Daemon  who  had  just  been  told 
there  was  a  wreck  off  this  shore,  and  was 
coming  out  to  see  it,  so  we  both  took  the 
first  train." 

They  hurried  on,  wishing  to  see  what 
they  could,  and  1  walked  homeward. 

Their  appearance  had  slipped  into  my 
reflections  as  neatly  as  a  good  illustration 
slips  into  a  discourse.  I  must  tell  you 
their  story,  and  then  see  if  you  dare  say 
man  is  not  a  harp,  and  woman  not  a 
harpist. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  53 

Years  ago,  when  I  was  a  child,  I  used 
to  see  my  mother  wax  indignant  over  the 
wrongs  inflicted  upon  one  of  her  neighbors 
— a  gentle  little  woman  whose  backbone 
evidently  needed  restarching.  She  was 
the  mother  of  three  children,  and  should 
have  been  a  most  happy  wife,  for  her  tastes 
were  domestic — her  devotion  to  her  family 
unbounded.  Unhappily,  she  was  wedded 
to  a  man  of  overbearing,  tyrannical  tem- 
per— one  of  those  ugly  natures  in  which 
meanness  is  generated  by  devotion.  The 
more  he  realized  his  power  over  his  poor 
little  wife,  the  more  he  bullied  her,  and 
beneath  this  treatment  she  faded,  day  by 
day,  until  finally  she  closed  her  tired, 
pathetic  eyes  forever.  My  mother  used  to 
say  she  had  no  doubt  the  man  was  over- 
whelmed by  her  death,  and  would  have 
suffered  from  remorse,  but  for  the  injudi- 
cious zeal  of  some  of  the  neighbors,  who 
were  so  wrought  up  by  this  culmination  of 
years  of  injustice  and  cruelty,  that  they 
attacked  him  fore  and  aft,  as  it  were, 


54  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

creating  a  scandalous  scene  over  the  little 
woman's  remains,  accusing  him  of  being 
her  murderer,  and  assigning  him  to  the 
warmest  quarters  in  the  nether  world. 
As  a  result  of  this  outbreak  of  public  opin- 
ion the  man  hardened,  and  assumed  a  de- 
fiant attitude  which  he  continued  to  main- 
tain toward  the  neighbors  for  some  years. 
In  the  midst  of  all  this  furor,  the  sister  of 
the  departed  wife  walked  calm  and  still. 
The  power  of  the  silent  woman  has  often 
been  dwelt  upon,  but  I  really  do  not  think 
that  half  enough  has  been  said,  although  I 
am  aware  of  committing  an  absurdity 
when  I  recommend  voluble  speech  on  the 
subject  of  silence.  Jesting  and  paradoxes 
aside,  however,  the  silent  woman  wields  a 
power  known  only  to  the  man  toward 
whom  her  silence  is  directed. 

In  this  particular  case  the  power  was  all 
for  the  best.  Erelong  the  sister-in-law 
obtained  such  mastery  over  the  forlorn 
household  that  she  held  not  only  the  fate 
of  the  little  ones,  but  that  of  the  father  as 
well,  in  the  hollow  of  her  hand. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  55 

Two  years  slipped  by,  and  then  the 
neighborhood  that  had  dozed  off,  as  it 
were,  awoke  to  hear  that  the  sister  was 
going  to  marry  that  awful  man. 

At  once  the  vigilance  committee  arose, 
and  took  the  case  in  hand. 

"It  can't  be  possible,"  it  cried  to  the 
woman. 

"Yes,  it  is  true,"  she  said. 

"Why,  don't  you  know  that  he  killed 
yrour  sister?" 

"I  know  he  did." 

"And  you  are  going  to  marry  him,  in 
face  of  that?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he'll  kill  you." 

"Oh,  no,  he  won't  kill  me" — there  was  a 
peculiar  light  in  her  eyes  that  puzzled  them. 

"What  can  you  want  to  marry  such  a 
man  for?"  they  cried,  coming  back  to  the 
original  question. 

"To  keep  the  children.  If  I  don't  marry 
him,  some  one  else  will,  and  those  children 
will  go  out  of  my  hands." 


56  How  To  Cook  Htts  bands. 

Her  devotion  to  the  motherless  brood 
had  been  past  praise.  There  was  nothing 
more  to  be  said,  and  if  there  had  been  it 
would  have  availed  nothing,  for  the  sister 
had  a  mind  of  her  own.  She  was  one  of 
those  handsome  women,  who  walk  this 
earth  like  queens,  and  to  whom  lesser  folk 
defer. 

She  married,  and  lo !  the  neighborhood 
was  agog  once  more,  for  strange  stories 
came  floating  from  out  that  handsome 
house,  and  it  appeared  for  a  time  that  in- 
stead of  his  killing  her  she  was  like  to  kill 
him. 

I  remember  one  tale  in  particular,  which 
my  mother  who,  by  the  way,  was  no  gos- 
sip, and  was  as  peaceable  as  a  barnyard 
fowl,  was  in  the  habit  of  rehearsing  before 
a  chosen  few,  occasionally,  with  a  quiet 
relish  that  was  amusing,  considering  the 
fact  that  ordinarily  any  comment  on  her 
neighbors'  affairs,  was  alien  to  her.  It  ap- 
peared that  after  a  short  wedding  trip, 
during  which  the  bridegroom  had  several 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  57 

times  shown  the  cloven  foot,  the  couple 
returned  to  their  domicile.  Probably  the 
maids  who  had  lived  there  for  some  years 
and  were  devoted  to  the  new  wife,  had 
been  warned  of  what  was  coming.  At  all 
events,  they  accepted  everything  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course. 

Upon  the  evening  of  the  married  pair's 
return,  a  handsome  dinner  was  served. 
The  train  was  a  trifle  behind  time;  the 
day  had  been  cold,  and  several  other  unto- 
ward circumstances  had  conspired  to  let 
loose  the  bridegroom's  natural  depravity. 
An  overdone  roast  served  to  touch  off  this 
inflammable  material. 

" these  servants! "he exclaimed;  "I'll 

kick  every  one  of  them  through  the  front 
window!  Look  at  that  roast!" 

The  doors  being  now  open,  a  perfect 
storm  of  ugly,  evil  tempers  poured  forth. 

At  such  times  as  these  it  was  the  cus- 
tom of  wife  number  one  to  shiver,  shrink, 
implore — weep,  then  take  the  offending 
roast  from  the  room,  and  replace  it  by 


58  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

something  else  which  most  likely  was 
hurled  at  her,  in  the  end. 

The  present  Mrs.  Daemon  neither  shiv- 
ered nor  shrank.  She  knew  what  to  ex- 
pect when  she  married  this  man,  and  she 
was  ready.  The  guns  were  loaded  and 
aimed,  and  they  went  off,  and  presto !  the 
enemy  lay  dead  on  the  dining  room  floor. 

Instead  of  a  roast  beef  solo,  there  was  a 
duet,  Mrs.  Daemon's  feminine  soprano  ris- 
ing above  her  husband's  masculine  roar. 
She  agreed  with  what  he  said  as  to  the  dis- 
position of  the  servants,  only  adding  that 
she  intended  to  hang  them  all,  before  he 
put  them  through  the  front  window. 

"To  insult  us  during  our  honeymoon 
with  such  a  roast,"  she  cried;  "and  look 
at  this  gravy !  It's  even  worse !" 

And  with  one  swift  stroke  of  her  hand 
she  sent  the  gravy  bowl  flying  from  off 
the  table  on  to  the  handsome  carpet. 

"In  Heaven's  name,  what  are  you 
about?"  he  bawled. 

"D«  you  suppose    I'd  offer  you    such 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  59 

gravy;  it  ought  to  be  flung  in  their 
faces." 

He  gasped  and  stammered ;  thought  of 
the  recent  wedding  and  regretted  it ;  but 
he  was  married  now,  and  to  an  awful 
shrew ! 

Soon  after  dinner  they  repaired  to  the 
drawing  room.  In  turning  from  the  fire- 
place he  stumbled  against  a  large,  elegant 
vase. 

"Confound  that  thing!"  he  exclaimed, 
"I  always  did  hate  those  vases  that  set  on 
the  floor." 

"So  do  I!"  she  chimed  in,  and  putting 
out  her  foot  with  an  expressive  jerk,  she 
kicked  it  over,  and  broke  it  into  a  hundred 
fragments. 

"Do  you  see  what  you've  done?"  he 
cried,  "have  you  forgotten  that  that  vase 
was  a  present  from  me?" 

"No,  I  haven't,  but  we  both  hate  it,  and 
what's  the  use  of  keeping  it?" 

This  was  but  the  beginning;  from  that 
time  on,  let  him  but  murmur  against  a 


60  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

dish,  and  it  was  flung  on  to  the  floor ;  tor- 
rents of  abuse  were  poured  upon  the  head 
of  a  maid  with  whom  he  found  fault; 
some  of  the  handsomest  furniture  in  the 
house  was  broken,  the  moment  it  gave 
offense  to  him.  In  no  vehemence  was  he 
alone — his  wife's  anathemas  and  abuse 
joined  and  exceeded  his,  until — he  had 
enough  of  it — an  overdose,  in  fact,  and  ere- 
long he  turned  a  corner — came  out  of  Hur- 
ricane Gulch  into  Peaceful  Lane,  and  he 
hoped  the  latter  would  know  no  turning. 
The  servants  whispered  of  times  when  he 
would  tell  his  wife  of  guests  invited  to  the 
house,  and  entreat  her  not  to  make  a  scene 
while  they  were  there. 

Sixteen  years  have  gone  by,  and  this 
woman  is  still  above  ground ;  stranger  still 
the  man  is  alive  as  well ;  and  strangest  of 
all,  they  are  still  under  the  same  roof. 
Indeed,  if  report  and  appearance  are  to  be 
trusted,  Mr.  Daemon  is  a  model  hus- 
band, and  Mrs.  Daemon's  sudden  and 
amazing  temper  has  spent  itself  and  left 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  61 

her  a  person  of  spirit  indeed,  but  in  nowise 
unamiable,  and  least  of  all,  an  ugly  char- 
acter. 

No  one  who  saw  them  walk  past  me, 
arm  in  arm,  that  morning,  on  their  way  to 
the  wreck,  would  have  dreamed  of  their 
past. 

Truly,  man  is  a  harp,  and  truly,  woman 
does  the  harping. 


62  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 


IV 


I  HAVE  been  wandering  about  to-day 
in  an  apparently  aimless  fashion,  but  in 
reality  "musing  upon  many  things."  Our 
horror  of  shiftlessness,  and  our  realization 
of  the  responsibilities  of  life,  and  of  the  im- 
portant work  Providence  has  kept  saving 
up  for  us,  or  perhaps  "growing  up"  for  us, 
like  Dick  Swiviller's  future  mate,  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  fact  that  if  we  take  an  hour's 
leisure,  anywhere  betwixt  sunrise  and  sun- 
set, we  feel  under  bonds  to  explain  the 
matter  not  only  to  our  own  souls,  but  also 
to  those  other  souls  who  live  adjacent,  and 
take  an  everlasting  interest  in  ours. 

Consequently,   I    told  myself  this  day 


How  To  Cook  Husbandso  63 

that  I  was  not  well — that  I  had  been  over- 
doing, and  that  I  had  best  "go  easy  for 
a  spell."  After  which  concession  to  my 
interior  governor,  I  proceeded  to  apologize 
to  my  neighbors ;  to  call  my  dogs — not  to 
apologize  to  them,  but  to  solicit  their  com- 
pany— and  then  to  hie  me  away  to  the 
lake,  remembering  to  walk  feebly  as  long 
as  I  was  in  sight. 

I  didn't  go  down  to  the  beach,  but 
plunged  into  the  cool,  comforting  heart  of 
a  ravine ;  fathomed  its  depths,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  delightful  seclusion,  and  came  out 
on  the  thither  side,  to  find  myself  in  the 
glowing  October  woods. 

111?  I  never  felt  better  in  my  life! 
Good,  rich  streams  of  blood  coursed 
through  my  veins,  and  painted  a  warm 
tint  in  my  cheeks.  At  that  moment  I  hope 
I  looked  a  trifle  like  Nature,  who  was  in 
the  height  of  her  being ;  in  a  sort  of  tropi- 
cal luxuriance,  like  a  beautiful  woman  at 
the  very  summit  of  maturity  and  perfec- 
tion. 


64  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

I  put  out  my  hands  toward  a  clump  of 
sumach — I  was  not  cold,  but  its  brilliant 
warmth  Jured  me  as  does  a  glowing  fire. 
It  permeated  my  very  being,  and  set  my 
soul  a-throbbing. 

There  had  been  rain,  and  then  warmth, 
and  October  had  caught  all  the  prismatic 
colors  of  the  drops  of  water,  and  was  giv- 
ing them  forth  with  Southern  prodigality. 
The  birds  bent  over  the  swaying  daisies, 
and  sang  soft  love-notes  into  their  great, 
dark  eyes,  while  I  looked  on  in  an  ecstasy 
of  wonder  and  delight — the  gokl  of  the 
daisies,  the  gold  of  the  sunlight,  and  the 
glow  in  my  heart,  seeming  in  a  way  all 
one — part  and  parcel  of  the  munificence 
and  cheering  love  of  the  Father.  It  is  a 
glorious  world,  and  it  is  glorious  to  live 
therein.  The  very  air  about  me — the  air 
I  was  breathing  in,  seemed  to  palpitate 
color  and  brilliant  beauty. 

I  talked  to  Duke  about  it,  and  he  looked 
around  him  with  a  certain  air  of  admira- 
tion depicted  on  his  noble,  fond  old  face. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  65 

Fanchon  was  frivolous,  as  usual,  and 
wanted  to  be  running  giddily  about,  hunt- 
ing rabbits  and  the  like ;  but  I  made  her  sit 
beside  me,  for  it  seemed  a  desecration 
every  time  the  October  silence  of  those 
woods  was  broken  by  aught  save  the 
dropping  of  a  ripened  nut,  or  the  whirr  of 
a  homing  bird. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  this  mellow  day 
that  I  sat  in  my  library  alone,  before  a 
hickory  fire.  Alone,  did  I  say?  Nay, 
Mrs.  Simpson  sat  before  me  in  the  opposite 
rocker.  You  could  not  have  seen  her,  or 
heard  her,  but  she  was  there,  and  was 
complaining  of  Mr.  Simpson,  saying  he 
rarely  ever  invited  her  to  go  anywhere; 
and  as  she  talked  I  recalled  a  certain 
evening  when  I  had  been  her  guest — in- 
cluded in  an  invitation  to  attend  a  spec- 
tacular entertainment  given  by  the  country 
club,  at  a  spot  some  distance  from  our 
homes,  and  I  said : 

"Mrs.  Simpson,  I  can  offer  you  some  re- 
cipes which  I  warrant  you  will  work  in- 


66  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

fallibly;  but  they  are  like  the  recipe  for 
determining  the  interior  condition  of  eggs, 
which  says,  put  them  in  water ;  if  they  are 
had  they  will  either  sink  or  swim — I  have 
forgotten  which.  Now  try  this  recipe  I 
am  about  to  give  you,  and  it  will  either 
make  Mr.  Simpson  unwilling  to  take  a 
step  in  the  way  of  recreation  without  you, 
or  it  will  make  him  stalk  forth  by  himself, 
as  lonely  as  a  crocus  in  early  March — I 
have  forgotten  which;  but  try  it  often 
enough,  and  you  will  learn." 

Recipe. 

"Fail  to  be  ready  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  keep  him  waiting  until  he  is  either 
raging  or  sullen;  cudgel  or  dragoon  the 
children  until  their  tempers  are  well  on 
edge.  Then  complain  of  the  gait  taken  by 
Mr.  Simpson  in  order  to  catch  the  train ; 
declare  frequently  when  aboard  that  you 
are  tired  ouL,  and.  are  sorry  you  came. 
After  you  reach  the  place,  re/nark  every 
now  and  then  that  you  don ^  think  the 
entertainment  amounts  to  much,  and  that 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  67 

you  do  think  it  was  a  piece  of  extravagance 
to  have  given  such  a  price  for  tickets  to  so- 
inferior  an  exhibition.  Next,  declare  that 
you  feel  a  draft,  and  are  catching  your 
'death  of  cold;'  interlard  all  this  with  f re 
quent  directions  to  the  children — admoni- 
tions and  complaints,  and  derogatory  re- 
marks about  Mr.  Simpson's  appearance, 
and  wonder — oft-expressed  and  reiterated, 
and  put  in  the  form  of  questions  "which 
you  insist  upon  his  answering,  as  to  why 
lie  didn't  wear  his  other  suit  of  clothes. 
Finally,  wind  up  the  whole  affair,  by  wish 
ing  you  were  in  bed,  and  announcing  your 
opinion  that  the  trip  didn't  pay,  and  you 
are  sure  it  will  make  you  and  the  children 
ill. 

"Try  this  faithfully,  and  it  won't  fail  to 
accomplish  something  decided." 

One  more  recipe. 

I  was  talking  to  Mrs.  Purblind  now; 
Mrs.  Simpson  had  had  her  fill,  and  gone 
home;  and  Mrs.  Purblind  had  taken  her 
place. 


68  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

You  couldn't  have  seen  her — but  that 
doesn't  matter. 

Recipe. 

"This  is  for  making  a  man  love  to  stay  a + 
home  with  you,  and  inducing  him  to  be 
cheerful  and  companionable,  or  for  mak- 
ing him  flee  your  presence  as  one  would 
flee  a  plague-stricken  city :  I've  forgotten 
which,  but  you  will  soon  discover,  if  you 
try  it  persistently. 

"Talk  on  disagreeable  themes,  talk  per- 
sistently and  ceaselessly ;  never  let  up ;  the 
more  tired  he  may  be  the  more  steadily 
you  must  talk,  and  the  more  irritating 
your  theme  must  be.  Go  to  the  gadfly ; 
consider  her  ways  and  be  wise.  Buzz, 
buzz,  buzz;  sting,  sting,  sting. 

"On  his  worst  nights,  always  select  his 
relatives  for  your  theme ;  harp  upon  their 
faults ;  their  failures  in  life ;  their  humilia- 
tions; the  unpleasant  things  people  say  of 
them.  Then  if  he  waxes  irritable,  express 
surprise ;  remind  him  how  he  used  to  talk 
against  these  same  relatives,  and  how 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  69 

much  trouble  he  gave  them  when  he  lived 
at  home;  add  that  it's  plain  now  that  he 
has  combined  with  his  relatives  against 
you,  and  that  you  should  be  surprised  if 
he  and  they  didn't  effect  a  separation.  If 
he  is  still  in  earshot,  pass  on  to  what  he 
once  told  you,  beginning  each  remark 
with: 

"You  said  that— 

"And  then  proceed  to  point  out  wherein 
and  howin  he  has  utterly  failed  to  make 
good  his  promises.  Further,  if  he  is  still 
in  the  house,  enlarge  upon  the  change  you 
have  noted  in  his  conduct  toward  you — 
how  devoted  he  used  to  be,  and  how  selfish 
he  has  become.  Next,  tell  him  how  well- 
dressed  other  women  are,  and  how  little 
you  have  on. 

"By  this  time,  if  not  sooner,  he  will  re- 
member that  he  has  night  work  clamoring 
for  him  at  the  office,  or  that  his  presence 
at  the  club  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  it 
would  be  well  for  you  to  conclude  your 
remarks  by  observing  that  if  he  bangs  the 


70  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

front  door  so  hard  every  time  he  goes  out, 
he  will  loosen  the  hinges." 

"Well  now,"  said  Mrs.  Purhlind — the 
invisible  Mrs.  Purblind  (she  always  would 
listen  to  reason,  which  is  more  than  could 
be  said  for  the  visible  creature  of  that 
name),  "well  now,  I  know  well  enough 
when  I  go  on  that  way,  that  it  isn't  best 
to  do  it;  but  the  Evil  One  seems  to  enter 
me,  and  I  get  going,  and  I  couldn't  stop 
unless  I  bit  my  tongue  off." 

"Bite  it  then,"  I  said,  "and  after  that, 
jump  into  the  lake;  were  you  once  there, 
your  virtues  would  float,  and  your  hus- 
band would  love  them;  but  alive,  your 
virtues  are  beneath  water,  and  your  nag- 
ging is  always  on  top." 

"But  what  is  one  to  do?  Supposing  all 
these  things  are  true — supposing  you  suffer 
from  all  these  wrongs. " 

"Did  you  ever  right  a  wrong  by  setting 
it  before  your  husband  in  this  way,  and 
at  these  times?" 

"No." 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  71 

"Did  you  ever  improve  your  condition?" 
"No.  But  what  would  you  do?" 
"Shut  up.  Dip  deep  into  silence.  In 
the  first  place,  when  you  find  you  have 
poor  material,  take  extra  care  in  the  cook- 
ing; study  the  art;  use  all  the  skill  you 
can  acquire,  and  finally,  if  that  won't  do, 
if  it  positively  won't — if  you  can't  make  a 
decent  dish  out  of  him,  open  the  kitchen 
door,  and  heave  him  into  the  ash-barrel, 
and  the  ash-man  will  cart  him  away. " 

I  have  traveled  a  little  in  my  life,  and 
have  been  entertained  in  various  house- 
holds. I  have  seen  wives  who  deserve 
crowns  of  laurel,  to  compensate  for  the 
crown  of  thorns  they  have  worn  for  years ; 
but  I  have  seen  others,  who  had  thorns 
about  them  indeed,  but  they  them- 
selves were  not  on  the  sharp  end.  Some 
of  these  stupid,  ignorant  women  fancied 
they  were  doing  everything  possible  to 
make  home  pleasant,  and  wondered  at 
their  failure.  There  they  sat,  prodding 
their  husbands  with  hat-pins,  and  grieved 
over  the  poor  wretches'  irritability. 


72  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

I  recall  a  conversation  I  once  overheard. 
The  husband  arrived  just  at  dinner  time. 
The  wife  heard  him  come  in,  and  called  to 
him  in  a  faint,  dying  voice,  from  the  top 
of  the  stairway — 

"George,  is  that  you?" 

The  answer  was  spiritless. 

"Yes." 

The  wife  came  downstairs. 

"Well,  then,  we  can  have  dinner.  I 
don't  know  that  it's  ready,  though ;  Bridget 
has  had  a  toothache  all  day,  and  she's  just 
good-for-nothing. " 

All  this  in  the  same  faded  tone  of 
voice. 

The  husband  passed  into  the  parlor,  and 
began  to  read  the  paper. 

The  weary  tongue  of  his  feminine  part- 
ner wagged  on,  in  a  dreary  sort  of  way. 

' '  I  think  these  girls  are  so  foolish ;  they 
haven't  a  bit  of  pluck.  I've  been  trying  to 
persuade  her  to  go  to  the  dentist's  and 
have  her  teeth  out,  but  she  won't.  I'm 
just  tired  to  death  to-night,  and  there's  nc 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  73 

end  to  the  work ;  Bridget  has  been  moan- 
ing around  all  day — why  her  teeth  — 

"Oh,  bother  her  teeth!" 

"Why,  don't  you  care  to  hear  anything 
that  goes  on  at  home,  George?" 

"I  don't  care  to  hear  about  teeth  that  go 
on  at  home ;  Bridget's  teeth  especially.  I 
don't  care  a  rap  for  the  whole  set. " 

"How  cross  you  are  to-night,  George! 
when  I'm  so  tired,  too.  Johnnie,  your 
face  is  dirty,  go  and  wash  it;  be  quick 
now,  for  it's  time  for  dinner.  I  don't 
know  that  Bridget  will  ever  call  us.  She's 
probably  sitting  out  in  the  kitchen,  nursing 
her  teeth;  why  she  has  five  roots  there, 
and  all  of  them  so  inflamed  that " 

"Bother  her  roots,  I  say!" 

"George,  you  are  extremely  irascible, 
but  that's  the  way ;  I  get  no  sympathy  at 
all." 

"Not  when  you  want  it  -by  the  whole- 
sale for  Bridget's  roots." 

"Well,  what  should  we  talk  about?  I 
don't  see  how  we  can  ever  have  conversa- 


74  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

tion  in  the  home,  if  you  won't  listen  to 
anything. " 

And  so  they  went  on — the  tired  husband, 
moody  and  irritable,  and  the  tired  wife, 
loquacious  about  matters  of  no  interest. 
I  felt  sorry  for  her  who  spake,  and  him 
who  heard. 

A  husband  worn  out  with  the  cares  and 
worries  of  an  unsatisfactory  business  day, 
and  a  wife  harrassed  and  fretted  by  over- 
work and  petty  annoyances,  could  succeed  in 
talking  pleasantly  together  only  by  the  use 
of  will-power  and  principle.  It  would  re- 
quire a  big  effort,  but  the  effort  would  pay. 
It  would  be  one  of  the  best  investments  a 
married  pair  could  make.  The  returns 
would  be  quick  and  large.  I  wonder  more 
don't  deposit  in  this  bank. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  75 


V 


I  HAD  not  forgotten  Mr.  Chance.  This 
fact  annoyed  me  excessively,  since  I  saw 
that  he  had  forgotten  me.  A  forgotten 
man  may  remember  a  woman,  and  pre- 
serve his  self-respect,  if  not  his  merriment ; 
but  when  a  forgotten  woman  remembers  a 
man,  that  is  quite  another  thing.  Not  that 
I  was  brooding  over  Mr.  Chance — far  from 
it ;  I  thought  very  little  of  him,  in  one  way, 
for  I  frequentl}T  saw  him  with  Miss  Sprig ; 
but  in  spite  of  all  that,  I  could  not  quite 
forget  the  impression  he  made  upon  me 
the  day  those  boys  killed  the  gay  little 
squirrel,  and  again  the  day  the  poor  mother 
went  down  into  the  deep,  dark  water  with 


76  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

her  child  held  close  to  her  agonized  heart. 
The  feeling  I  experienced  for  him  on  that 
awful  day,  was  unique  in  my  history.  I 
had  never  been  an  impressionable  girl  as 
far  as  men  were  concerned — I  was  not  an 
impressionable  woman.  For  me  to  carry 
the  thought  of  a  man  home  with  me — for 
me  to  dwell  upon  this  thought,  and  above 
all  to  take  pleasure  in  dwelling  upon  it, 
meant  more  than  it  would  have  meant  for 
some  women.  That  was  as  far  as  the 
matter  had  gone,  but  it  was  far  enough — 
too  far,  considering  his  evident  indiffer- 
ence, and  I  was  humiliated,  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life,  over  my  attitude  toward  a 
man.  This  mortification  induced  me  to 
treat  Mr.  Chance  even  more  coldly  than  I 
should  have  done  ordinarily,  though  his 
trifling  with  Miss  Sprig  would  have  called 
forth  some  coolness  of  conduct  under  any 
circumstances. 

I  had  abundant  opportunity  to  express 
myself  in  this  way,  for  Mr.  Chance's  night 
work  necessitated  late  rising,  and  I  saw 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  77 

him  to  speak  to  him  almost  every  morn- 
ing. Indeed,  I  took  some  pains  to  be  in 
my  garden  during  the  forenoon,  and  from 
this  vantage  ground  I  could  not  only  see 
much  that  took  place  between  himself  and 
Miss  Sprig,  but  I  also  had  opportunity  to 
speak  with  him  as  he  passed  my  house,  on 
his  way  to  the  train. 

Sometimes  Miss  Sprig  walked  to  the 
station  with  him.  He  evidently  absorbed 
much  of  her  time  and  thought,  and  she 
evidently  regarded  him  as  her  latest  vic- 
tim, for  she  made  him  a  common  subject 
of  talk,  and  her  entire  acquaintance  had 
the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  foolish  things 
he  did  and  said.  She  always  represented 
him  as  deeply  in  love  with  her ;  I  have  no 
doubt  she  really  thought  that  he  was. 

For  my  own  part,  I  cared  very  little 
wnether  he  was  in  love,  as  it  is  called,  or 
not.  If  he  had  succumbed  to  such  a  shal- 
low-pated,  bold,  common  girl,  I  felt  con- 
tempt for  him,  and  this  contempt  was 
deepened  when  I  realized  that  he  might  be 


78  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

trifling  with  her.  In  any  event  it  morti- 
fied and  angered  me  to  think  he  had 
been  seen  with  me;  (he  had  often  called 
upon  me  and  we  had  been  out  together 
several  times), and  that  the  old  neighborhood 
gossips  had  coupled  our  names.  Now  it 
would  be  reported  that  Miss  Sprig  had  cut 
me  out;  if  I  was  pleasant  toward  him. 
they  would  wag  their  foolish  old  heads, 
and  whisper  about  my  efforts  to  win  him 
back;  if  I  was  cool,  they  would  shake 
these  same  empty  pates,  and  prattle  about 
my  wounded  affections.  It  was  one  of  those 
cases  where  you  can't  possibly  do  the  right 
thing — I  mean  the  thing  that  will  silence 
the  clacking  tongue :  consequently,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  I  plunged  into  the  worst 
possible  course  I  could  have  taken,  for 
when  Mrs.  Catlin,  who  lived  catacorner 
from  me,  and  who  watched  me  as  a  cut 
watches  a  mouse,  said  something  one  day 
about  Mr.  Chance's  feeling  bound  to  pay 
attention  to  Mr.  Purblind's  cousin,  as  long 
as  she  was  visiting  there,  and  that  she 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  79 

knew  such  a  girl  wasn't  to  his  taste,  and 
she  was  sure  he  would  come  to  his  senses 
soon,  I  was  so  angry  that  J  lost  control  of 
my  temper,  and  all  control  of  my  wits, 
and  blazed  out  with : 

"It's  none  of  my  business  or  concern 
whom  he  pays  attention  to,  and  for  my  part 
I  think  they're  well  mated." 

Whereupon,  realizing  I  had  made  a 
perfect  fool  of  myself,  and  that  this  speech 
of  mine  would  go  the  rounds  of  the  suburb, 
and  I  could  never  erase  it  from  the  village 
mind — not  if  I  lived  Q  hundred  sensible 
years,  I  had  much  ado  to  withhold  myself 
from  seizing  a  pot  of  bachelc -s'  buttons 
that  stood  near,  and  breaking  the  whole 
thing  over  Mrs.  Catlin's  idiotic  skull. 

It  was  on  top  of  this  peasant  interview 
with  Mrs.  Catlin,  that  Mr.  Chance  came 
over,  and  asked  me  to  attend  a  concert 
that  evening  with  himself  and  Miss  Sprig, 
and  he  very  narrowly  avoided  receiving 
the  bachelors'  buttons  that  Mrs.  Catlin 
had  but  just  escaped. 


80  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

I  strode  indoors,  and  began  packing 
some  of  my  effects,  for  I  was  resolved  to 
move  that  day,  or  the  next.  Not  because 
I  had  discovered  I  had  such  fools  for 
neighbors — I  had  always  known  that — but 
because  I  had  just  discovered  that  they 
had  a  fool  for  a  neighbor. 

Worldly  considerations  prevailed  with 
me,  and  I  took  out  the  Penates  that  I  had 
slammed  into  a  trunk,  mended  their 
broken  noses,  and  set  them  in  place  once 
more ;  but  I  hid  myself  away  for  several 
days,  much  as  Moses  was  hidden,  but  for 
a  less  dignified  reason. 

After  a  time,  I  cooled  off,  and  decided 
to  accept  the  world  as  it  stood,  and  not  to 
rage  because  the  millennium  did  not  come 
before  I  was  fitted  to  enjoy  it. 

Mrs.  Purblind  ran  over  one  afternoon, 
and  I  could  see  that  she  was  far  from 
happy.  I  had  noticed  for  some  weeks 
various  changes  in  the  direction  of  im- 
provement, in  her  care  of  her  husband  and 
household.  I  had  also  noticed  that  Mr. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  81 

Purblind's  conduct  did  not  keep  pace  with 
these  improvements,  but  I  fancied  Mrs. 
Purblind  was  not  sharp  enough  to  see  or 
sensitive  enough  to  care.  In  this  it  seems 
I  erred,  as  I  have  in  one,  or  perhaps  two, 
other  directions  during  my  life. 

As  Mrs.  Purblind,  for  the  first  time 
since  I  have  known  her,  didn't  seem  to 
care  to  talk,  I  took  up  a  book  at  random, 
and  began  reading  aloud.  As  luck  would 
have  it,  I  stumbled  into  some  passages 
descriptive  of  the  ideal  home,  and  before  I 
could  stumble  out  again,  the  poor  woman 
burst  into  tears.  I  suppose  that  tender 
little  sentence  served  as  the  key  that  un- 
locked the  floodgates.  As  soon  as  her 
grief  had  spent  itself,  she  apologized,  and 
ascribed  her  tears  to  bad  news  in  a  letter 
or  something,  and  shortly  afterward  left. 
I  watched  her  -walking  down  the  street, 
until  my  eyes  were  too  dim  to  see  her.  It 
grieved  me  sorely  that  the  cause  of  her 
sorrow  was  so  deep,  and  so  delicate  that  I 
could  not  offer  her  my  sympathy.  Her  tears 


82  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

were  piteous  to  me,  and  I  wanted  to  take  her 
to  my  heart,  and  tell  her  how  sorry  I  was 
for  her ;  but  to  do  that  would  have  been  to 
take  advantage  of  her  moment  of  weak- 
ness, and  that  I  could  not — must  not  do. 
So  I  let  her  go  from  me  with  merely  a  few 
commonplace  expressions  of  regret  that 
she  had  received  disturbing  news,  while 
all  the  time  my  heart  was  aching  in  unison 
with  hers,  and  I  kept  her  with  me  in 
thought,  all  day. 

I  went  down  to  the  lake  directly  after 
dinner ;  several  things  were  troubling  me, 
and  I  wanted  to  lay  my  puzzled  head  on 
Mother  Nature's  bosom. 

My  run  down  the  steep  sides  of  the  bluff 
set  the  blood  to  coursing  smartly  through 
my  veins,  and  a  new  and  more  cheerful 
stream  of  thought  to  flowing. 

I  was  tired  that  night,  and  it  was  a  luxury 
to  lie  flat  upon  my  back  on  the  beach,  listen- 
ing to  the  rhythmical  thud  of  the  big,  long 
wave  at  my  feet,  and  the  song  of  the  stars 
overhead.  There  is  something  unspeakably 


How  To  Cook  Husbands*  83 

tranquillizing  in  the  studded  dome  of 
heaven ;  there  is  also  something  unspeaka- 
bly sad.  It  bends  over  the  struggling, 
yearning,  aching  human  heart,  as  a 
mother,  who  has  attained  that  peace  which 
is  the  outgrowth  of  suffering,  bends  over 
the  passion,  the  sobbing,  and  the  despair 
of  her  child. 

"Hush,  hush,  it  is  all  for  the  best." 

"I  cannot — will  not  bear  it!" 

"Hush,  you  know  not  what  you  say. 
God's  hand  is  in  it  all. " 

"There  is  no  God  in  this,  or  if  there  is. 
He  hates  me !" 

"Ah,  my  child,  He  loves  you  with  unut- 
terable love,  and  pities  with  unutterable 
pity.  Yet  a  little  while,  and  the  day  shall 
shine  upon  you;  then  you  will  know — a 
little  while. " 

I  turned  from  the  great  vault  above  me, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  restive  waters, 
and  as  I  turned  I  saw  a  shadowy  Mrs. 
Purblind  sitting  beside  me  on  the  beach, 
and  questioning  with  sad  eyes  and  heart, 
the  stars  that  bent  to  listen. 


84  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"I  have  tried,"  she  said;  her  face,  usu- 
ally so  thoughtless,  tear-stained,  and  quiv- 
ering. 

"Yes,  I  know  you  have  tried,"  I  an- 
swered; "I  have  seen  that!" 

"But  he  is  just  the  same." 

"Yes,  and  will  be  for  a  long  time,  and 
you  will  have  to  go  on  trying  for  years,  if 
you  want  to  carry  him  back  to  the  old 
days,"  I  said. 

"That's  one  of  the  hardest  things  in  all 
the  world!"  she  cried  passionately,  "if  we 
stop  doing  right — the  right  stops  with  us, 
but  if  we  stop  doing  wrong  and  begin  to 
do  right,  the  wrong  goes  on. " 

"Not  for  always,"  I  said,  looking  up  to 
the  stars. 

"Oh,  for  so  long!" 

The  great  dome  rich  with  gems,  and 
deep  with  peace,  bent  over  her,  and  by 
and  by  her  sobs  ceased. 

"You  are  trying,  I  know,"  I  reiterated, 
"but  you  don't  understand — you  can't,  for 
you  have  only  a  woman's  nature. " 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  85 

"What  should  I  have,  pray?" 

"A  woman's,  and  a  man's,  and  a  child's, 
to  be  a  perfect  wife  and  mother ;  that  is, 
you  must  be  able  to  comprehend  them  all. 
Your  husband  came  home  cross  to- 
night. " 

"Yes,  irritable  toward  us  all,  and  I  so 
hoped  to  have  everything  pleasant  this 
evening." 

"He,  too,  had  his  hopes  to-day,  and  they 
were  flung  to  the  ground,  and  broken  be- 
fore his  eyes. " 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"The  special  agent  of  a  company  that 
he  has  for  a  year  been  working  to  get, 
has  been  in  town. '' 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"Yesterday  this  agent  led  him  to  sup- 
pose he  was  to  be  the  favored  one.  All  to- 
day he  has  been  working  toward  that  end, 
and  near  night  he  heard  that  this  man  had 
gone,  without  even  saying  good -by.  You 
remember  that  Mr.  Purblind  left  home  in 
a  hurry  this  morning,  with  scarcely  a  bite 


86  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

of  breakfast ;  lie  took  very  little  luncheon, 
and " 

"Well,  we  had  dinner  at  the  usual  time, 
if  he'd  said  he  was  hungry,  I'd  have  hur- 
ried it. " 

"He  was  not  hungry — he  was  much 
more  than  that.  Did  you  ever  see  a  vessel 
whose  fuel  is  well-nigh  exhausted  drag 
herself  into  port?  What  is  the  first  thing 
to  be  done?'' 

"I  don't  know — replenish  her?" 

"Yes,  put  coal  on  board.  Now  when  I 
saw  your  husband  walk  up  to  his  front 
door,  I  said  to  myself,  he  needs  coaling. 
A  good  home  should  be  a  good  coaling 
station;  remember  that. " 

"But  what  of  me?"  she  asked  with  some 
impatience,  "I,  too,  have  my  worries  and 
exertions — do  I  never  need  coaling?" 

"Frequently,"  I  answered. 

"Well,  who  is  to  coal  me,  I  should  like 
to  know?" 

"Yourself." 

' '  That's  rather  one-sided,  I  think.  Why 
shouldn't  my  husband  look  to  that?" 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  87 

"My  dear,"  I  said  earnestly,  "I  never 
knew  but  one  man  who  saw  when  his  wife 
needed  coaling,  and  attended  to  her  wants. 
When  he  died  (for  the  gods  loved  him),  it 
was  found  that  his  shoulder-blades  were 
abnormally  large — at  least  so  the  doctors 
said,  but  I  knew  all  the  time  that  his  wings 
had  budded." 

"Well,  this  life  is  too  much  for  me," 
murmured  Mrs.  Purblind  drearily. 

"Then  don't  attempt  the  next." 

"I  shan't,  if  I  can  help  it,  and  yet  I'm 
like  to  soon,  for  Mr.  Purblind's  mother  is 
coming  on  a  visit  to  us,  and  I  know  she'll 
worry  the  breath  out  of  me." 

"Don't  let  her." 

"How  can  I  help  it?" 

"By  keeping  the  peace  with  her." 

"Oh,  I've  tried  that  before;  I've  done 
everything  I  could  for  her,  and  deferred  to 
her,  and  ignored  myself  until  I  seemed  to 
fade  out  of  existence,  but  it  didn't  work. " 

"Oh,  yes,  it  did,  for  it  made  her  ten 
times  as  troublesome  as  before." 


88  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"It  certainly  did,  but  what  do  you 
mean?" 

"I  mean  that  a  mother-in-law  is  like  a 
child,  in  that  she  is  spoiled  by  having  her 
own  way." 

"But  what  can  I  do?" 

"Walk  calmly  on,  doing  the  best  you 
can,  but  recognizing  your  own  authority 
and  dignity,  and  finally  she  will  come  to 
recognize  it.  Be  mistress  of  your  own 
household,  and  director  of  your  own  chil- 
dren— all  this  quietly  and  pleasantly,  but 
without  wavering,  and  in  the  end  she  will 
respect  and  probably  admire  you,  though 
she  will  never  think  you  do  just  right,  or 
are  just  the  woman  who  ought  to  have 
married  her  son." 

"But  I've  always  been  in  hopes  of  mak- 
ing her  love  me  as  she  loves  her  own 
daughter." 

"That  is  what  every  romantic  woman 
starts  out  with,  but  by  and  by,  in  the 
storm  and  stress  of  domestic  life,  that  ideal 
is  cast  overboard,  as  a  struggling  ship 
throws  its  extra  cargo  over  the  rail. " 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  89 

"Why  is  it,  I  wonder,  a  man  never 
fights  with  his  father-in-law.  Men  are 
said  to  be  naturally  pugnacious. " 

"That's  a  mistake,  my  dear;  a  man 
would  go  several  miles  any  day  to 
avoid  a  fuss;  it  is  we  women  who  delight 
in  scraps.  A  man  occasionally  has  a  little 
set-to  with  the  girl's  father,  before  he  gains 
his  consent  to  the  engagement,  but  once 
he's  married,  it's  the  old  lady  he  has  to 
train  for,  or  I  should  say  who  trains  for 
him,  because  as  a  general  thing  it  is  she  who 
gives  battle,  not  he.  The  real  conflict, 
however,  takes  place  between  the  two 
women — the  wife  and  her  mother-in-law. 
If  you  want  to  see  'de  fur  fly,'  as  the 
darkies  say,  you  must  always  come  over 
to  the  feminine  side  of  the  house.  Then 
you'll  have  your  fill  of  explanations,  ex- 
postulations, and  recriminations." 

"Well,  certainly  I  never  had  any  trouble 
with  my  father-in-law." 

"Trouble!  Do  you  know  what  I'd  do,  if 
I  had  a  troublesome  father-in-law?" 


90  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"No— murder  him?" 

"Murder  him,  indeed!  Woman,  have 
you  no  mercantile  instinct?  That  would 
be  like  killing  the  goose  that  lays  the 
golden  egg.  Why,  the  first  showman 
would  take  the  old  gentleman  off  my 
hands,  and  pay  me  a  handsome  price  for 
him.  You  must  know  that  a  troublesome 
father-in-law  is  so  rare  that  the  public 
would  flock  to  see  him.  But  you  couldn't 
get  anything  for  a  troublesome  mother-in- 
law.  There  are  too  many  families  trying 
to  get  rid  of  them,  at  any  price.  The  sale 
of  parents-in-law  is  governed  by  the  same 
laws  as  other  commodities,  and  these  inter- 
fering, mischief-making  mothers-in-law 
have  become  a  drug  in  the  market. " 

"Well,  there  is  Mrs.  Earnest,  her 
mother-in-law  is  a  jewel." 

"Ah,  now  you  mention  a  most  valuable 
piece  of  property,  for  a  woman  like  that — 
who  models  her  conduct  on  the  pattern  of 
Aunt  Betsey  Trotwood.  in  David  Copper- 
field's  household,  is  a  jewel  of  such  magni- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  91 

tude  and  brilliancy,  that  she  will  some  day 
be  seen  sparkling  in  Abraham's  bosom, 
from  a  distance  of  millions  of  miles. " 

"Well,  how  would  you  cook  mothers-in- 
law?" 

"Make  a  delicious  dish  of  your  husband 
and  then  take  a  pinch — a  good  pinch — of 
mother-in-law,  and  throw  her  in  as  'sass.' 
Speaking  of  this,  remember  that  too  many 
cooks  spoil  the  broth,  and  wife  and  mother- 
in-law  combined  generally  make  a  pretty 
mess  of  the  husband." 


92  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 


VI 


I  WAS  feeling  a  trifle  dull  and  heavy  one 
afternoon,  and  after  several  vain  efforts  to 
do  good  work,  decided  that  a  vigorous 
tramp  would  set  my  blood  to  flowing,  and 
the  wheels  of  my  thinking  mill  to  revolv- 
ing. So  out  I  started  toward  the  lake,  as 
usual.  There  had  been  a  storm  off  the 
Michigan  shore,  and  we  were  just  be- 
ginning to  get  evidence  of  it,  in  the  big 
waves  that  were  tumbling  on  the  beach, 
I  like  the  lake  in  this  mood — in  any  mood, 
indeed,  but  especially  when  it  is  rough  and 
wild. 

After  quite  a  brisk  tramp  along,  or  near 
the  beach,  I  turned  back ;  but  before  going 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  93 

home  again,  I  wished  to  come  in  closer 
contact  with  the  tumultuous  waters.  At 
risk  of  being  wet  by  the  spray,  which  the 
waves  were  tossing  on  high,  much  as  an 
excited  horse  tosses  the  foam  from  his 
chafing  mouth,  I  climbed  around  the  little 
bathing  house,  set  on  the  shore  end  of  the 
pier,  and  then  boldly  walked  out,  and  took 
my  seat  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult. 

The  passion  of  the  lake  was  magnificent ; 
far  out — as  far  as  eye  could  stretch— there 
were  oncoming  waves ;  the  clan  was  gath- 
ering, and  all  in  battle  array.  What  an 
overwhelming  charge  they  made !  Surely 
no  one  could  resist  that  onslaught.  There 
was  no  deliberation,  as  was  usual  with  a 
moderately  heavy  sea ;  no  calm,  inevitable 
heaving  of  the  water;  no  steady  rising, 
ever  higher  and  higher,  until  it  crested, 
curved,  and  fell  with  a  boom.  There  was 
nothing  of  this  to-day;  no  preparation; 
everything  was  ready;  the  warriors, 
armed  and  mounted,  were  already  making 
the  attack. 


94  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

For  a  time  I  gloried  in  it  all ;  even  the 
anger  of  the  waves  was  more  admirable 
than  terrific  in  my  sight.  It  seemed  as 
though  they  interpreted  my  holdness  as  de- 
fiance, and  accepted  the  challenge.  From 
near,  from  far,  they  were  coming,  and  all 
upon  me,  or  if  that  is  taking  too  much  to 
myself,  they  were  making  their  attack 
upon  the  shore,  meaning  to  claim  it  for 
their  own,  and  incidentally  to  sweep  me, 
a  poor,  insignificant  atom,  from  their  sight. 

By  and  by  I  found  myself  oppressed  with 
the  desolation  of  the  scene.  As  the  day 
waned,  and  the  chill  that  foreshadows 
night  fell  upon  me,  or  rather  rose  upon  me, 
from  the  cold  waters,  I  began  to  feel 
lonely  and  unprotected.  The  waves 
looked  so  hungry,  so  cruel ;  they  reached 
out  and  up  toward  me;  they  encircled 
with  the  inevitable,  as  with  a  relentless 
fate.  I  began  to  be  afraid  of  them,  and  I 
rose  to  go  back  to  shore. 

Unlike  the  ocean,  the  lake  is  fixed ;  but 
that  day  the  increase  of  the  waves,  in 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  95 

height  and  fury,  had  the  effect  of  a  rising 
tide.  I  realized  that  it  would  be  very  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  get  off  the  pier  alone,  and  I 
was  more  than  relieved  to  see  Randolph 
Chance,  who  had  come  down  for  a  looli  at 
the  lake  before  taking  his  train  to  the  city. 
He  joined  me  without  trouble ;  a  man  can 
perform  those  feats  so  easily,  whereas  a 
woman  is  physically  hampered. 

"You're  in  rather  a  bleak  place,  Miss 
Leigh,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  I  have  just  begun  to  realize  that." 

"Oh,  well,  we'll  manage  to  get  off  safely; 
but  you  mustn't  mind  a  little  wetting. 
Just  give  yourself  to  me,  and  we'll  be  on 
shore  in  a  minute. " 

I  gladly  did  as  he  bade  me;  it  was 
luxury  just  then  to  have  some  one  as 
strong  and  capable  as  he  take  the  reins. 
He  led  me  around  the  bathing  house,  and 
then  lifted  me  from  the  pier.  As  he  set 
me  safely  on  the  shore,  his  eyes  met  mine, 
and  his  look  was  a  revelation  to  me.  I 
was,  for  a  moment,  too  startled  to  think, 


96  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

and  the  strangest  sensation  I  ever  experi- 
enced crept  over  me.  If  a  look  could 
speak,  Randolph  Chance — but  I  did  not 
put  it  into  words — not  then,  at  least,  but  it 
was  all  very  strange  to  me — most  inexpli- 
cable. 

We  walked  on  quietly,  both.  I  dare  say, 
feeling  our  silence  to  be  a  trifle  awkward. 
It  was  for  this  reason  that  I  decided  to 
shorten  the  time  of  our  being  together,  by 
stopping  at  the  house  of  a  friend.  The 
wetting  I  had  received  from  the  waves 
did  not  amount  to  anything  for  one  so 
hardy  as  myself,  so  I  was  not  deterred  on 
that  account. 

The  house  where  I  stopped  was  a  pleas- 
ant resort  for  me.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bachelor  were  interesting  people.  I  had 
known  Mr.  Bachelor  for  fifteen  years.  He 
had  once  been  one  of  our  young  men,  as 
the  saying  is,  young  merely  in  the  sense 
of  being  single,  not  in  actual  years,  for  at 
the  time  I  met  him  he  was  nearer  the  forty 
than  the  thirty  line.  Nature  seemed  to 


How  To  Cook  Husbands,  97 

have  marked  him  for  single— cussedness,  I 
had  almost  said,  from  the  first.  He  was 
no  favorite  with  any  set,  being  grumpy, 
fussy,  and  peculiar.  But  five  years  after  he 
rose  into  sight  above  my  horizon  he  mar- 
ried a  most  sensible,  lovely  woman;  not  a 
child,  by  the  way,  for  she  was  almost 
forty;  and  in  less  than  no  time,  it 
seemed  to  us,  had  a  family  of  four  children 
about  him,  one  following  the  other  so 
closely  that  the  predecessor  was  all  but 
overtaken.  At  first  we  said  among  our- 
selves that  he  must  have  borrowed  these 
infants,  and  stuck  them  up  in  his  home  for 
appearance's  sake,  in  some  such  manner  as 
the  proprietor  of  a  summer  hotel  once 
stuck  a  number  of  trees  in  his  grounds,  to 
make  a  sandy,  barren  spot  seem  fertile 
and  enticing.  But  by  and  by  we  became 
convinced  that  these  little  human  shoots 
w^ere  his  very  own,  not  alone  because  they 
evinced  some  disagreeable  crotchets  similar 
to  his,  but  also  because  of  the  love  he  bore 
them,  and  the  change  they  wrought  in  his 


98  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

character  and  life.  Even  around  court 
the  man  was  regarded  differently ;  warmth 
and  esteem  being  extended  him  now  in 
place  of  the  dislike  he  had  formerly 
aroused.  He  had  never  ceased  to  be  a 
study  to  me,  and  a  certain  flavor  of 
romance  hung  about  his  home — a  delightful 
flavor,  that  made  it  an  attractive  visiting 
spot.  So  it  was  with  considerable  pleasure 
that  I  called  upon  this  particular  day. 

I  was  shown  into  the  parlor — a  comforta- 
ble room,  back  of  which  was  a  most  home- 
like apartment,  called  the  study.  As  I  sat 
there,  awaiting  Mrs.  Bachelor's  coming,  I 
noticed  that  her  husband's  desk,  which 
stood  in  the  center  of  the  study,  was 
strewn  with  dolls,  and  paraphernalia  closely 
related  thereto.  My  observations  were  in- 
terrupted by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Bache- 
lor, who  welcomed  me  in  her  cordial, 
cheery  way.  A  minute  later  Mr.  Bachelor 
came  in,  and  gave  me  what  was  for  him, 
a  most  friendly  greeting.  He  excused 
himself  in  a  little  while,  and  went  into  his 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  99 

study.  He  had,  so  his  wife  explained, 
been  ill  with  a  cold  for  a  day  or  two,  and 
had  been  working  at  home  the  while,  to 
make  ready  for  the  approaching  trial  of  an 
important  case. 

Upon  his  entering  the  study,  a  scene 
occurred  which  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  you 
as  near  to  the  life  as  possible.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  course  he  steered  directly  for  his 
desk,  and  his  eye  immediately  fell  upon  a 
quantity  of  grandchildren,  variously  dis- 
posed thereon. 

"Well,  I  declare!"  he  exclaimed;  "if 
this  isn't  outrageous!"  and  he  gathered  up 
the  whole  crop — there  were  fully  a  dozen 
dolls,  in  all  stages  of  development,  and 
much  doll  furniture,  and  toggery  of  all 
kinds. 

After  dumping  the  obnoxious  elements 
on  to  a  divan,  he  returned  to  his  desk,  and 
with  much  grumbling  sorted  out  his  law- 
papers,  and  went  to  work.  But  soon  after 
he  had  cleared  his  visage,  as  it  were,  his 
small  daughter — a  pretty  child,  four  years 


100  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

old — ran  into  tliB  room  hugging  two  puggy 
puppies,  and  two  kittens  of  tender  age. 
It  did  not  take  her  long  to  grasp  the  situa- 
tion. Running  to  the  divan,  she  uttered  a 
series  of  cries,  indicative  both  of  alarm  and 
displeasure. 

"What — what — what  is  the  matter?" 
said  Mr.  Bachelor,  who  had  probably  for- 
gotten his  offense  by  this  time. 

"You  naughty  papa!"  cried  the  child; 
"what  did  you  disturve  my  dollies  for?" 

"What  did  you  put  them  on  my  desk 
for?"  queried  her  father  indignantly; 
"the  idea!  I  haven't  a  spot  on  earth  I  can 
call  my  own." 

"You've  just  mussed  their  best  frocks 
all  up,"  continued  the  cl  ill,  who,  without 
paying  the  slightest  attention  to  her  father's 
vigorous  protest,  was  rapidly  replacing  her 
family,  puppies,  kittens,  and  all,  on  the 
desk. 

' '  I  tell  you  I  can't  have  them  here !  I 
have  important  papers  around,  and  I  must 
be  allowed  to  work  in  peace.  Take  them 
off!" 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  101 

He  started  to  sweep  them  on  to  the  floor, 
but  the  little  girl  uttered  a  shriek. 

"Papa,  papa,  don't,"  she  screamed. 
Then,  as  he  desisted,  she  added,  "They've 
just  dot  to  be  here — it's  the  bestest,  highest 
table,  and  the  little  doggies  and  kitties 
can't  jump  off,  and  I'm  doing  to  have  a 
tea-party  with  Mamie  Williams.  You 
must  put  your  nasty  old  papers  somewhere 
else. " 

"This  is  an  outrage!"  he  exclaimed, 
standing  up  and  declaiming  as  if  he  were 
in  court;  "this  is  imposition  run  riot;  it 
has  reached  a  climax,  and  111  endure  it  no 
longer.  Evidently  I  have  no  lights  that 
even  the  smallest  and  youngest  in  the 
household  is  bound  to  respect.  It  is  a 
notorious  fact  that  I  am  ruled  with  a  rod 
of  iron,  and  that  even  this  baby  of  the 
family  flouts  me.  I  say  I  will  stand  it  no 
longer.  I  have  been  held  with  a  tight 
rein,  and  a  curb  bit,  but  I  will  turn  at 
last." 

In  his  excitement,  his  metaphors  became 


102  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

confused,  horses  and  worms  being  all 
mixed  up  in  a  heap. 

"Take  the  desk,  take  the  whole  of  it. 
and  to-morrow  I  shall  leave  the  house !  I 
shall  go  back  to  my  bachelor  quarters, 
where  I  once  lived  in  peace." 

The  child  regarded  him  seriously,  from 
out  her  great,  brown  eyes. 

"Don't  ^o  away,  papa,"  she  said  at 
last,  "you  may  have  a  little  of  your  desk, 
if  you  won't  take  too  much.  I  didn't 
mean  to  be  cross  at  you,"  she  added,  with 
a  pathetic  quiver  of  her  lip. 

"Well,  well!"  exclaimed  the  father  has- 
tily, "there,  there!"  and  he  laid  his  hand 
softly  on  her  curly  little  head.  "I  guess 
we'll  get  on  somehow ;  if  I  can  have  a  part 
of  the  desk,  that'll  answer.  It's  big  enough 
far  two,  I  guess. " 

And  he  began  moving  his  papers  around. 

"Not  there,  papa,"  said  the  little  tyrant; 
"no,  that's  the  sunny  side,  and  little 
bowwow  must  be  there,  'cause  he's  dot  the 
badest  cold,  and  the  kitties  haven't  dot  but 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  103 

little  weeny  eyes  yet,  and  they  must  be 
where  it's  most  lightest. " 

"Well,  well,  well,  where  may  I  sit?  I 
must  get  to  work. " 

"You  may  sit  right  there,  and  you 
mustn't  fiddet,  'cause  you'll  upset  dolly's 
crib,  if  you  do. " 

Soon  he  was  safely  bestowed,  off  en  one 
side,  and  as  he  obediently  kept  to  his  limi- 
tations, all  proceeded  happily. 

During  this  domestic  scrimmage,  Mrs. 
Bachelor  went  on  chatting  in  her  lively, 
pleasant  fashion  with  me,  never  betraying, 
in  any  way,  that  she  overheard  the  scene 
in  the  study.  I  was  so  occupied  with  it, 
that  I  could  pay  no  heed  to  her  remarks ; 
but  she  was  a  wise  w^oman,  and  knew  that 
her  husband  was  being  cooked  to  a  delici- 
ous turn,  and  that  any  interference  on  her 
part,  would  spoil  the  dish.  I  have  since 
learned  that  occasionally,  when  she  sees 
that  the  fire  is  really  too  hot  for  him,  she 
comes  to  his  rescue. 

"If  he  sputters  and  fizzes,  don't  be  anx- 


104  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

ious ;  some  husbands  do  this  till  they  are 
quite  done." 

Evidently  Mrs.  Bachelor  has  studied  her 
cook-book. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands,  H)5 


VII 


THE  little  touch  of  sentiment  that 
flashed,  as  it  were,  from  Randolph  Chance 
as  he  lifted  me  off  the  pier,  was  presently 
blotted,  as  far  as  effect  upon  me  was  con- 
cerned, by  the  return  of  Miss  Sprig  to  the 
Purblind  household,  and  the  renewal  of 
his  attentions  to  her.  At  least  I  regarded 
them  as  renewed,  and  I  coldly  turned  my 
back  upon  him,  and  let  him  go  his  way, 
without  further  thought  or  speculation. 

I  was  daily  becoming  more  interested  in 
another  acquaintance — Mr.  Gregory,  a 
man  of  years,  whom  I  had  known  for 
some  time.  He  had  been  a  visitor  at  our 
house  when  my  parents  were  living,  and 


106  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

had,  from  time  to  time,  shown  me  friendly 
attentions  since  their  death.  He  frequently 
invited  me  to  places  of  entertainment,  some- 
thing Randolph  Chance  seldom  did,  and  in 
many  ways  contributed  to  my  comfort  and 
happiness.  Single  women  are  very  depend- 
ent upon  their  men  friends  for  pleasures 
of  this  sort ;  few  of  them  care  to  go  out  at 
night  alone,  and  even  when  they  go  in 
company  with  each  other,  the  occasion 
lacks  a  zest  which  belongs  to  it  when  a 
woman  has  an  escort.  It  is  strange  that 
many  men — many  of  those  who  believe  in 
the  dependence  of  women,  fall  into  the  self- 
ish habit  of  going  alone  to  theater,  con- 
cert, and  lecture,  and  so  force  the  women 
of  their  acquaintance  into  a  position  which 
their  sentiments  would  seem  to  deprecate. 

While  in  no  way  obtrusive,  or  gushing 
in  his  attentions,  Mr.  Gregory  was  most 
thoughtful  and  kind,  and  few  women  are 
without  appreciation  of  conduct  of  this 
type. 

Life  flowed  on  with  me  with  a  quiet  cur- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  107 

rent.  I  was  not  a  woman  to  make  scenes 
with  myself  or  others,  and  my  circum- 
stances were  such  as  to  permit  of  an  undis- 
turbed tenor  of  way. 

One  bright  afternoon,  just  as  I  returned 
from  a  long  walk,  Mrs.  Purblind  ran  over 
to  see  me,  and  soon  afterward,  Mrs.  Cynic 
dropped  in.  I  never  could  bear  this  latter 
woman;  something  malevolent  seems  to 
emanate  from  her;  something  that  is  more 
or  less  unhealthful  to  the  moral  nature  of 
all  who  come  in  contact  with  it,  just  as  the 
miasma  from  a  swamp  is  poisonous  to  the 
physical  being. 

It  chanced  that  I  had  just  finished  writ- 
ing a  little  story,  drawn  from  the  life-page 
of  my  domestic  experience ;  it  was  so  en- 
deared to  my  memory  that  I  was  not  like 
to  forget  it,  and  yet,  in  the  course  of  years, 
its  outlines  would  probably  fade  a  trifle  if 
I  did  not  take  care  to  preserve  their  dis- 
tinctness; for  that  reason  I  had  written  it 
out. 

I  ought  to  have  had  better  sense  than  to 


108  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

read  anything  of  this  kind  to  Mrs.  Cynic. 
In  the  presence  of  such  people,  that  which 
is  fresh,  beautiful,  and  holy  withers,  as  a 
cluster  of  dewy  wild  flowers  is  parched 
and  killed  by  the  hot,  sterile  breath  of  a 
furnace. 

Usually  I  have  some  judgment  in  such 
matters,  but  that  day  all  discretion  seemed 
to  take  wings. 

A  remark  of  Mrs.  Purblind's  led  up  to 
the  subject.  This  little  woman  can  say 
ugly  things  at  times,  but  they  are  stung 
out  of  her,  as  it  were,  by  some  particular 
hurt,  and  are  not  the  expression  of  her  real 
nature.  She  has  a  kind,  good  heart, 
though  her  judgment  and  tact  are  some- 
what lacking. 

We  happened  to  be  speaking  of  men, 
and  something  was  said  about  their  capac- 
.ity  for  devotion,  when  Mrs.  Purblind  ex- 
claimed : 

"Devotion!  the  masculine  nature  doesn't 
know  the  meaning  of  the  word,  unless  it 
is  devotion  to  self." 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  109 

"I  must  read  you  a  little  story  I've  writ- 
ten to-day.  It's  a  true  one,  remember — I 
think  I  shall  call  it,  'Devotion'." 

I  went  to  my  desk,  took  out  the  manu- 
script, and  read  as  follows : 

"A  few  years  ago  I  owned  a  pair  of  fox- 
hounds. Duke  was  the  gentleman  of  the 
family,  and  Lady  was  his  consort,  and  a 
lady  she  was  indeed.  I  can  hardly  imag- 
ine a  human  creature  of  greater  intelli- 
gence and  refinement  than  this  dumb 
beast.  The  attachment  between  herself 
and  Duke  was  unique  in  its  strength,  and 
in  its  demonstration.  He  was  fully  as 
noble  and  as  intelligent  as  she,  but  of  a 
less  lively,  cheerful  temperament.  The 
arrival  of  six  little  Dukes  was  an  occasion 
of  anxiety  and  excitement  for  us  all,  and 
we  were  much  relieved  when  the  event 
was  safely  over,  and  we  saw  Lady  and  her 
beautif ul  family  established  in  peace  and 
comfort.  Matters  had  run  smoothly  for 
about  four  or  five  weeks,  when  one  day  I 
was  startled  by  a  series  of  sharp  yelps, 


110  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

which  I  knew  came  from  Lady.  I  ran  to 
the  window,  and  saw  the  poor  creature 
rolling  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  in  the 
greatest  pain.  By  her  side  was  Duke,  and 
his  outcries  mingled  with  hers.  The  hard- 
hearted teamster,  whose  wagon  had  done 
the  mischief,  had  driven  off,  but  I  ran  to 
the  rescue,  and  finally  got  her  into  the 
stable,  where  her  little  ones  were  awaiting 
her.  She  only  lived  a  few  hours,  and  her 
last  act  was  an  effort  to  nurse  her  clamor- 
ous doggies,  while  with  her  great,  sad  eyes 
she  seerne  I  to  say  good -by  to  Duke !  The 
grief  of  this  noble  fellow  was  so  great  that 
we  thought  he  would  go  mad.  For  a  time 
he  refused  to  let  us  come  near  her.  He 
stood  over  her,  licking  her  senseless  form, 
pushing  her  gently  once  in  a  while  with  his 
head  and  paws,  and  then  uttering  lamenta- 
ble cries  when  he  saw  that  she  did  not 
move,  or  in  any  way  respond ;  and  mean- 
while the  tiny  dogs  were  crawling  over 
her,  and  mingling  their  •  voices  with  their 
father's  deep  notes  of  distress.  It  was  a 


How  To  Cook  Husbands*  111 

most  pitiable  sight,  and  we  all  breathed  a 
sigh  of  relief  when  the  dear  old  fellow  per- 
mitted us  to  lead  him  off  into  the  house, 
and  we  had  an  opportunity  to  dispose  of 
poor  Lady.  Ill  not  try  to  tell  of  Duke's 
excitement  and  distress  when  he  missed 
her;  of  his  frantic  search  all  over  the  place, 
and  of  how  we  followed  him  about, 
and  talked  to  him,  and  tried  to  divert  him ; 
or  how  we  all — Duke,  and  the  rest  of  us, 
finally  sat  down  in  the  stable,  beside  the 
motherless  little  family,  and  wept  together. 

"The  morning  after  Lady  died,  I  went 
out  to  the  stable  with  a  cup  of  warm  milk. 
I  had  not  been  able  to  do  anything  with 
the  puggy  little  dogs  the  evening  before, 
but  I  thought  that  their  sharp  hunger, 
after  several  hours  of  abstinence,  would 
lead  them  to  make  an  effort  to  drink.  I 
carried  a  spoon  with  me,  also  a  rag  to  suck, 
and  a  bottle,  with  a  nipple — all  kinds  of 
appliances,  in  fact. 

"What  was  my  surprise  upon  entering 
the  stable,  to  find  Duke  occupying  Lady's 


112  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

place.  He  was  evidently  trying  to  answer 
the  small  dogs'  clamorous  demand  for 
breakfast,  and  it  was  also  plain  that  his 
failure  in  this  respect  amazed  and  bewil- 
dered him.  He  lay  down  just  as  he  had 
seen  Lady  do,  and  when  this  did  not 
suffice  he  tried  another  position;  failing 
again,  he  withdrew  a  few  paces,  and  sat 
for  a  moment  in  an  attitude  of  profound 
thought;  returning  soon,  and  trying  an- 
other device.  This  resulting  unfavorably, 
he  made  still  another,  and  then  another 
attempt,  and  finally,,  grieved  to  the  heart, 
and  worried  by  the  hungry  cries  of  the 
small  dogs,  he  withdrew  once  more,  and 
lifting  his  nose  high  in  air,  deliberately 
yowled. 

"At  this  point  I  obtruded  myself  upon 
the  scene  and  went  up  to  the  dear  old 
dog,  took  his  distressed  head  in  my  arms, 
and  talked  to  him.  I  explained  to  him  the 
difficulty  of  the  situation ;  how,  owing  to 
circumstances  quite  beyond  his  control,  he 
could  not  take  Lady's  place.  I  urged 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  113 

upon  him  that  he  must  yield  gracefully  to 
his  limitations ;  showed  him  my  appliances, 
and  then  when  I  had  soothed  and  inter- 
ested him,  and  he  had  consented  to  desist, 
and  let  me  try,  I  made  my  essay. 

"It  was  a  study  for  an  artist — my  appeal- 
ing, pitying,  impatient,  scolding  efforts  to 
induce  those  unreasonable  little  creatures 
to  accept  a  rag,  or  a  bottle  in  place  of  a 
mother.  I  shouldn't  have  cared  so  much, 
that  is,  I  could  have  taken  longer  without 
minding  it,  had  it  not  been  for  Duke.  His 
anxiety  was  so  great,  and  his  distress  over 
their  cries  so  keen,  that  I  was  quite  un- 
nerved, and  as  is  often  the  case,  I  showed 
my  concern  by  scolding  and  abusing  the 
objects  in  whose  behalf  I  was  exerting 
myself. 

"I  was  all  but  ready  to  give  up,  when 
one  of  the  smallest  and  liveliest  of  the  pup- 
pies (a  feminine  creature,  of  course)  sud 
denly  seized  upon  the  nipple  of  the  bottle 
with  a  lusty  grip,  and  sucked  away  till  she 
was  all  but  strangled  with  milk.  Her 


114  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

example  was  speedily  followed  by  the 
others,  but  before  I  had  gone  the  rounds 
Duke  comprehended  that  our  trial:1  were 
ended,  and  then — well,  the  dignified,  sad- 
faced  old  doggie  took  leave  of  his  wits, 
temporarily,  as  well  as  his  digmity.  Ho  ca- 
pered, he  relied  on  tho  ground,  he  barked, 
he  bayed,  he  played  leap-frog  over  my 
head,  did  everything  but  stand  on  end, 
and  very  nearly  that,  in  his  joy. 

"From  that  time  on  he  never  failed  to  be 
present  whe.n  his  infants  were  fed,  and 
when  I  weaned  them,  and  taught  them  to 
drink,  ho  was  an  interested  spectator; 
helpful  too,  for  one  time  when  a  small  dog 
was  obdurate,  he  took  him  by  the  nape  of 
the  neck,  arid  shook  him  thoroughly,  be- 
fore turning  him  over  to  me  for  another 
trial.  On  another  occasion,  the  pig  of  the 
family  drank  too  deep,  as  it  were,  from 
the  flowing  bowl,  and  might  have  been 
drowned  had  it  not  been  for  his  watchful 
parent.  Duke  noticed  that  the  small  fore- 
quarters  were  plunged  into  the  liquid  din- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  115 

ner ;  he  also  observed  that  the  hind  quarters 
were  slowly  rising  in  midair.  He  watched 
all  this,  with  his  accustomed,  kindly  grav- 
ity, until  the  equilibrium  was  lost,  and 
Master  Pup  plunged  into  the  pearly  sea. 
Then  the  startled  father  leaped  to  Ms  feet, 
snatched  his  offspring  from  a  milky  grave, 
and  laid  him,  sneezing  and  choking,  sad- 
der and  wiser,  on  the  sunny  grass-plat  to 
dry. 

"In  due  time  Duke  recovered,  in  a  meas- 
ure, from  his  grief  over  Lady's  death,  and 
took  unto  himself  another  partner.  As  is 
usual  in  the  case  of  widowers,  his  second 
choice  was  injudicious,  for  Fanchon  was  a 
giddy,  young  thing,  that  didn't  have  sense 
enough  to  come  in  out  of  the  rain. 

"But  Duke  saw  no  defects;  he  was  all 
tenderness  and  attention. 

"It  was  early  winter,  but  the  weather 
was  intensely  cold,  and  we  had  taken 
Duke  and  Fanchon  in  from  the  stable,  and 
had  housed  them  comfortably  in  the  cellar. 

' '  One  night  I  was  wakened  out  of  a  sound 


116  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

sleep  by  cries  of  distress.  I  called  my 
sister  and  her  husband,  who  were  visiting 
me,  and  in  various  costumes,  all  hands  went 
below.  Fanchon  was  running  about,  crying 
and  moaning,  and  Duke  was  alternately 
making  frantic  efforts  to  soothe  her,  and 
kiyiying  in  a  manner  that  was  fearful  to 
hear.  We  succeeded  at  last  in  getting 
Fanchon  to  heed  us,  and  coaxed  her  to 
settle  down  in  a  comfortable  bed  we  made 
for  her  on  the  far  side  of  the  cellar,  where 
she  would  have  the  benefit  of  the  warmth 
from  the  furnace,  and  would  be  out  of  the 
way  of  the  cold  air  which  came  in  through 
a  window,  broken  the  day  before. 

"As  soon  as  she  was  pacified,  Duke  was 
again  happy,  and  he  cheerfully  lay  down 
to  rest.  We  retired  to  our  rooms,  and 
being  very  weary,  with  much  sightseeing 
during  the  day,  dropped  into  a  sound  sleep. 
The  next  morning  I  hurried  down  into  the 
cellar,  wondering  whether  I  should  see  two 
dogs,  or  a  dozen.  To  my  surprise  and 
dismay,  I  saw  none  at  all.  The  cellar  was 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  117 

silent  and  deserted.  I  opened  the  outer 
door,  and  with  a  failing  heart,  stepped 
into  the  clear,  bitter  cold  of  a  temperature 
something  like  fifteen  degrees  below  zero. 
Just  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  in  a 
nook  slightly  sheltered  from  the  biting  air, 
I  came  upon  the  family.  Fanchon  lay 
upon  the  ground,  the  snow  carefully 
pushed  up  around  her,  and  her  clinging 
little  ones,  who  were  taking  their  break- 
fast. Over  all — Fanchon  and  her  puppies 
— covering  them  with  his  faithful  body — 
shielding  them  with  his  never-failing  love 
and  devotion,  was  my  noble  hound — as 
noble,  as  faithful  a  dog,  as  ever  man  or 
woman  loved.  I  called  to  him,  and  rubbed 
him,  but  all  in  vain,  and  meanwhile 
stupid,  silly  Fanchon,  that  had  foolishly 
left  her  warm  bed  in  the  cellar,  looked  on 
with  cheerful  indifference,  and  wagged 
her  tail." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Cynic,  when  I  had 
concluded  the  reading,  "that  story  seems 
to  me  to  prove  but  one  thing. " 


118  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"And  what  is  that,  pray?"  I  asked, 
realizing  I  had  been  foolish  to  read  such  a 
tale  to  such  an  auditor. 

"Why,  the  truth  of  Madame  de  StaeTs 
remark:  'The  more  I  see  of  men,  the 
more  I  admire  dogs. '  " 

That  hateful  woman!  She  always 
leaves  me  with  a  bad  taste  in  my  mouth. 
I  know  she  springs  from  some  corrupt 
ancestry.  She  has  all  the  marks  of  inward 
decay  upon  her. 

When  she  had  gone,  Mrs.  Purblind  and 
I  breathed  more  freely. 

"She  doesn't  believe  in  anything  good," 
said  Mrs.  Purblind. 

"No,"  I  answered  in  a  tone  of  disgust, 
"she  has  nothing  within  her  to  answer  to 
it." 

"How  different  she  is  from  Mrs.  Ear- 
nest," continued  Mrs.  Purblind;  "why, you 
can  hardly  convince  that  woman  that  any- 
one is  really  mean,  and  goodness  knows 
she  has  trouble  enough  to  make  her  bitter. 
What  a  husband  she's  got!  That  man 


How  To  Cook  Husbanck  119 

makes  me  so  mad !  He's  ugly  from  sheer 
badness." 

I  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  I  as- 
sented. I  really  do  believe  that  man  is 
ugly  without  cause.  He  and  his  wife  live 
at  some  distance  from  us,  and  I've  often 
visited  them.  I  should  like  to  give  you  a 
scene  to  which  I  was  witness  one  evening 
when  I  was  a  trifle  ill,  and  lay  on  a  divan 
just  out  of  their  dining  room. 

Mrs.  Earnest  is  like  a  delicate  flower 
that  lifts  its  pretty  face  and  smiles  in  the 
sunlight  of  love,  but  is  bowed  and  broken 
'neath  the  thunder -cloud  and  storm.  She 
longs  to  make  her  home  attractive,  but  her 
husband  has  no  sympathy  with  this  de- 
sire; to  him  home  is  merely  the  place 
where  he  finds  food  and  lodging,  and  a 
safety  valve  for  such  moods  and  tempers 
as  he  is  obliged  to  keep  under  control  in 
the  business  world. 

The  efforts  that  this  poor  little  wife 
makes,  in  her  timid  way,  to  start  up  pleas- 
ant subjects  of  conversation  would  move  a 
rock  to  tears. 


120  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

This  is  the  scene,  as  I  recall  it — a  speci- 
men scene. 

The  family — husband,  wife,  and  three 
little  children  were  at  dinner,  as  I  said. 

"What's  been  happening  to-day?  any- 
thing of  interest?"  asked  the  little  wife. 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  was  the  gruff 
reply. 

Silence,  broken  by  the  occasional  sound 
of  eating  implements,  ensued. 

"Pass  the  bread,  will  you?"  he  said  in 
a  short  tone,  directly. 

"See  how  you  like  this  bread;  we  are 
trying  the  entire  wheat  flour.  I  think  it's 
very  nice  tasting,  and  they  claim  it's  rich 
in  nutrition.  It's  warranted  to  make 
blood,  bone,  and  muscle — brain,  too,  I  be- 
lieve. I'm  going  to  eat  several  pounds  a 
day ;  I  may  astonish  the  world  yet. " 

This  feeble  joke  was  received  in  stolid 
silence,  and  the  poor  little  wife  crept  into 
her  shell. 

After  a  time  she  peeped  out  again,  and 
made  another  effort. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands,  121 

"I  went  to  the  womans'  club  this  after- 
noon; Mrs.  Pierson  invited  me.  They 
had  a  very  interesting  meeting;  they 
brought  up  the  subject  of  smoke  consum- 
ers. I  never  realized  before  how  much 
property  is  ruined  yearly  by  the  smoke. 
It  does  seem  as  if  manufacturers  ought  to 
use  consumers. " 

At  this  point  Bruin  openly  yawned,  and 
the  little  wife  again  retired.  But  with  as- 
tonishing elasticity  of  courage  she  issued 
from  her  shell  once  more,  this  time  with 
the  hope  that  a  more  masculine  theme 
would  meet  with  some  response. 

"They  brought  a  petition  around  here 
to-day  for  us  to  sign.  It  seems  there  is 
some  talk  of  ^flooring  the  reservoir  and 
using  it  as  a  beer  garden  this  coming  sum- 
mer, and  the  neighborhood  has  been  called 
upon  to  protest  against  it." 

"I  know  all  about  that,"  he  growled. 

"Have  you  signed  it?" 

"I  have." 

Again  silence  fell  as  a  wet  cloak  upon 


122  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

them,  and  the  little  woman  sat  there  rack- 
ing her  brains,  almost  depleted  by  this 
time,  for  the  atmosphere  which  such  a 
man  as  that  creates  is  warranted  to  dry 
up  all  the  intellectual  juices, 

One  more  despairing  effort.  The  chil- 
dren had  now  left  the  table,  so  anecdotes 
of  them  were  in  order.  Probably  the  poor 
little  wife  thought  that  this  man  could  be 
wakened  into  attention  by  a  story  about 
one  of  his  children. 

"Mamie  asked  me  where  cats  went  to 
when  they  died.  'They  don't  go  any- 
where,' I  said;  'when  they  die,  that's  the 
end  of  them.' 

"  'Do  they  turn  to  dust?'  she  asked. 

"  'Yes,  just  turn  to  dust,'  I  said. 

"'Why,  then,'  she  exclaimed,  and  her 
eyes  grew  as  big  as  saucers,  'when  horses 
run  'long  the  streets,  are  they  kicking  up 
cats?'" 

All  the  man  said  was,  "Umph,"  and  the 
little  wife's  peal  of  merry  laughter  was 
checked,  and  the  ha  ha's  grew  fainter  and 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  123 

spread  farther  and  farther  apart,  until  they 
died  away  altogether,  and  I  felt  like  charg- 
ing upon  that  burly,  surly  demon,  and 
butting  him  out  of  the  window. 

"How  would  you  serve  such  a  man,  if 
you  were  his  wife?"  asked  Mrs.  Purblind. 

"Boasted!" 


124  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 


vm 


MR.  GREGORY'S  attentions  had  become 
an  accepted  fact  in  my  life.  They  were 
dignified  and  steadfast,  and  I  received 
them  with  a  certain  calm  pleasure.  They 
had  not,  as  yet,  reached  the  point  of  declara- 
tion, but  it  was  clear  to  me,  and  to  every- 
one else,  who  knew  anything  about  the 
matter,  that  they  were  tending  thither, 
and  my  own  thought  had  reached  the  point 
of  acceptance.  I  had  the  greatest  respect 
for  him  as  a  man ;  we  were  congenial  in  our 
tastes,  and  personally  agreeable  to  one  an- 
other. The  position  he  had  to  offer  me 
was  a  most  dignified,  desirable  one.  as  he 
was  not  only  a  man  of  sterling  integrity, 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  125 

but  also  a  man  of  wealth ;  there  was,  in 
short,  everything  in  favor  of  the  alliance, 
and  I  looked  upon  it  quietly,  but  with  a 
sense  of  substantial,  and  steadfast  com- 
fort. 

Such  an  event  as  a  marriage  cannot 
even  in  prospect,  face  a  thoughtful  woman 
without  making  a  great  change  in  her  life. 
Mr.  Gregory  was  that  type  of  man  who 
ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  offer  himself  in 
a  direction  where  there  was  no  intention 
of  acceptance,  for  his  character  and  age — 
he  was  fifty  or  more — forbade  all  thought 
of  lightness  or  trifling,  and  gave  one  the 
assurance  that  any  marked  attention  he 
might  show,  was  significant.  My  ac- 
quaintance with  him  had  extended  over 
several  years,  and  during  this  period  there 
had  been  abundant  opportunity,  on  both 
sides,  for  study  of  character. 

In  a  quiet  way,  I  had  been  arranging 
my  affairs,  preparatory  to  my  expected 
change  in  manner  of  life.  I  had,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  done  considerable  think- 


126  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

ing  during  this  time.  I  had  experienced 
none  of  the  rapture  always  associated  with 
a  romantic  attachment,  but  I  was  quietly 
happy,  and  this  condition  was  a  far  more 
natural  one  for  me,  with  my  cool,  matter- 
of-fact  temperament — a  far  more  promising 
one,  in  respect  to  future  enjoyment,  I  felt, 
than  something  more  ecstatic. 

I  had  seen  but  little  of  Mr.  Chance  for 
some  weeks.  He  had  called  several  times, 
but  on  each  of  these  occasions,  we  had 
passed  a  somewhat  constrained,  and  I 
thought,  a  rather  dull  evening.  Just  why 
this  constraint  should  have  crept  into  our 
intercourse  when  we  seemed  to  be  coming 
to  a  better  understanding  than  heretofore, 
and  were  beginning  to  enjoy  a  warmer  de- 
gree of  friendship  than  we  had  known,  I 
could  not  understand ;  but  its  presence  was 
undeniable,  and  it  spoiled  everything  for 
me,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  causing 
me  to  look  upon  his  calls  in  the  light  of  a 
bore,  rather  than  as  a  pleasure,  as  I  once 
had  done.  Occasionally  a  memory  of  that 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  127 

evening  when  he  came  to  my  rescue,  as  the 
hungry,  cruel  waves  gathered  like  wolves 
about  me,  would  flit  across  my  mind,  as  a 
shadow  may  flit  across  a  sunlit  hill.  Once 
in  a  long  while  I  found  myself  dwelling 
upon  the  look  he  gave  me  that  night,  and 
this,  and  the  memory  of  his  touch,  as  he 
lifted  me  off  the  pier,  would  dim  the  sun- 
shine of  my  cheerfulness.  I  could  not 
have  explained  this  to  myself,  and  I  never 
dwelt  upon  the  thought ;  whether  from  dis- 
inclination, or  from  fear,  I  could  not  tell. 
I  only  knew  that  I  always  turned  from  it 
abruptly,  and  passed  on  to  my  plans  affect- 
ing my  life  with  Mr.  Gregory.  It  was 
quite  easy  to  plan  in  this  direction,  for 
there  was  nothing  uncertain,  as  there 
might  have  been  in  the  case  of  a  younger 
man.  Mr.  Gregory  was  fixed  in  his  tastes, 
and  way  of  life;  I,  too,  at  my  age,  had 
formed  settled  habits,  and  this  he  knew; 
but,  fortunately,  in  most  directions,  we 
were  in  harmony,  and  where  we  were  not, 
we  had  fallen  into  a  way  of  making  cer- 
tain concessions. 


128  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

So  I  had  matters  pretty  well  laid  out; 
all  my  theories,  born  of  years  of  close  ob- 
servation of  affairs  domestic,  were  now 
brought  to  bear  on  my  own  future. 
Secretly  I  esteemed  myself  a  competent 
cook,  when  a  husband  was  the  dish  under 
discussion.  Mr.  Gregory  was  not  one  to 
require  any  very  complicated  wisdom  in 
the  culinary  art.  A  little  gentle  stewing; 
no  stroag  seasoning;  no  violent  changes  or 
methods  of  any  sort;  but  regularity,  even- 
ness; quiet  affection;  respect;  comfort, 
and  general  conformance  to  taste  and  na- 
ture would  be  necessary,  and  I  felt  my- 
self fully  equal  to  it  all. 

Matters  had  well-nigh  culminated,  for  I 
had  received  a  note  from  Mr.  Gregory  ask- 
ing when  I  would  be  at  home  to  him,  and 
saying  that  he  had  a  matter  of  great  mo- 
ment to  both  of  us,  to  lay  before  me.  I  set 
an  evening,  and  then  awaited  his  coming 
without  the  slightest  quickening  of  my 
pulse,  but  with  a  serenity  and  cheerfulness 
that  appealed  to  my  common  sense  as  the 
surest  forecast  of  happiness. 


Haw  To  Cook  Husbands.  1^9 

Just  at  this  juncture,  a  swift  turn  of  the 
wind -cock,  or  some  imprudence  of  diet, 
resulted  in  my  taking  cold — a  most  un- 
usual procedure  for  me,  and  at  the  time 
of  Mr.  Gregory's  call  I  was  unable  to  see 
him,  being  confined  to  my  bed,  in  the  care 
of  a  doctor,  who  was  fighting  a  case  of 
threatened  pneumonia. 

Mr.  Gregory  expressed  his  sincere  re- 
gret, and  the  next  day  called  again,  and 
left  flowers.  These  attentions  were  re- 
peated daily,  and  soon  after  hearing  of  my 
improvement,  he  wrote  me  a  letter  in 
which  he  said  that  which  he  had  intended 
to  say  on  the  evening  of  the  day  I  fell  ill. 
He  did  not  request  a  reply;  in  fact,  he 
asked  me  to  withhold  my  answer  until  I 
should  be  able  to  see  him  in  person.  It 
would  have  been  wiser,  perhaps,  he  said, 
to  have  postponed  any  word  on  the  subject 
until  I  had  recovered,  but  he  had  found  it 
difficult  to  delay  the  expression  of  his  feel- 
ing toward  me,  and  hence  had  written. 

This  last  rather  surprised  me,  for  Mr. 


130  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

Gregory  had  always  seemed  so  unlikely  to 
be  swayed  by  impulse,  or  carried,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  beyond  a  point  indicated 
by  his  'udgment.  It  simply  went  to  prove 
that  the  most  regularly  and  smoothly  laid- 
out  man,  if  one  may  so  express  it,  has  un- 
suspected crooks  and  turns. 

I  had  no  desire  to  answer  the  letter, 
being  perfectly  able  and  willing  to  wait 
until  I  should  see  him.  In  fact,  instead  of 
hastening  the  time  for  my  acceptance,  I 
rather  delayed  it,  for  I  reached  a  point  in 
my  convalescence,  when  I  was  able  to  go 
down  to  the  parlor,  had  I  so  wished,  and 
still  did  not. 

Each  day  of  my  illness,  a  lovely  bouquet 
of  flowers  had  been  left  at  my  door.  They 
came  direct  from  the  greenhouse,  and 
were  left  without  card,  or  sign  of  the 
giver.  I  had  an  eccentric  little  friend  who 
was  quite  devoted  to  me,  and  was  fond  of 
keeping  her  left  hand  in  darkest  ignorance 
of  the  performances  of  its  counterpart — the 
right  hand — and  I  attributed  this  delicate 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  131 

and  beautiful  token  of  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion to  her ;  but,  for  some  inexplicable  rea- 
son, every  morning  when  the  flowers  were 
brought  to  my  room,  and  I  took  them  in 
my  hand,  a  strange  feeling  came  over  me 
— a  feeling  I  had  never  had  toward  my 
little  friend. 

Over  two  weeks  had  passed,  and  I  was 
downstairs  in  the  study.  My  nurse  had 
gone  out,  my  housekeeper  was  busy,  and 
I  was  very  lonely.  I  was  standing  at  the 
window,  looking  westward.  The  sun  had 
gone  down  in  regal  splendor.  Some  fete 
was  in  progression  in  the  sky,  for  the  at- 
tendants of  the  god  of  day  were  resplendent 
in  attire.  They  had  been  marshalled  from 
all  quarters  of  the  heavens,  and  their  stately 
and  solemn  procession,  brilliant  with  the 
most  gorgeous  red,  royal  purple,  and  daz- 
zling gold,  had  caused  my  heart  to  dilate 
with  awe  and  reverential  admiration. 

The  lake,  stirred  by  the  wonderful  pag- 
eant, caught  the  many  hues  as  they  dropped 
from  heaven,  and  tossed  them  on  high  in 
joyous,  iridescent  waves. 


132  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

The  climax  of  majesty  and  beauty  was 
reached,  and  then  the  convocation  broke 
up — not  suddenly,  but  slowly,  and  with 
gracious  dignity.  The  sun  sank  into  the 
waiting  arms  of  the  unknown ;  the  lights 
of  heaven  faded,  and  the  clouds  slowly 
melted  into  dusk. 

The  scene  had  stirred  me  as  I  am  seldom 
stirred,  and  with  the  oncoming  of  nigl  t 
new  thoughts  and  feelings  rose  from  their 
lair,  as  strange  and  beautiful  wild  animal? 
step  from  their  caves  into  the  deep  mys- 
tery of  darkness. 

My  neighbor  next  door — Mrs.  Thrush, 
sat  on  her  broad,  vine-clad  gallery,  rock- 
ing her  little  child  in  her  arms.  By  her 
side  sat  her  husband,  with  one  arm  thrown 
across  her  lap.  He  had  laid  his  paper 
down,  for  the  daylight  was  fading,  and 
perhaps  his  thought  was  too  happy  to 
stoop  to  daily  news.  Softly  the  little  wife 
and  mother  sang;  she  had  a  sweet  home 
voice,  and  no  music  of  orchestra  ever 
moved  me  as  did  her  lullaby. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  133 

I  was  at  that  moment  an  intensely 
lonely  woman.  I  thought  of  Mr.  Gregory 
and  my  future,  and  still  I  was  lonely. 

Far  away  to  the  east  there  was  a  low, 
long  bank  of  clouds  like  a  mountain  range, 
and  as  the  poetry  and  melody  of  the  lul- 
laby rose  from  the  little  nest  on  my  left, 
and  stole  into  my  thought,  I  saw  a  faint  light 
above  this  line ;  then  a  group  of  mist-like 
clouds  that  moved  toward  me.  Slowly  the 
gray  haze,  tinged  with  soft  light,  began 
to  resolve  itself  into  shadowy  forms,  and 
my  heart  stood  still  as,  in  some  vague 
way,  I  traced  a  connection  between  the 
lullaby  and  the  vision,  and  realized  that  a 
message  was  coming  to  me. 

I  was  perfect!}7  calm,  but  with  the  calm- 
ness which  is  the  outgrowth  of  an  excite- 
ment so  tense  that  it  is  still.  As  the  vision 
floated  nearer,  I  heard  soft  music — a  croon- 
ing, yearning,  soul-satisfying  lullaby;  I 
saw  a  little  child,  a  mother,  and  a  father. 
The  child  was  as  beautiful  as  an  angel, 
and  there  was  that  in  its  face  which 


134  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

made  my  eyes  flood  with  tears,  and  my 
heart  ache  with  yearning;  the  faces  of  the 
parents  were  too  vague  for  me  to  recog- 
nize at  first;  then  slowly,  that  of  the 
mother  became  more  distinct,  and  I  saw 
myself  before  me — myself,  a  wife  and 
mother;  the  visible  answer  to  my  heart's 
deepest,  most  secret  cry.  Still  the  father's 
face  was  hidden,  but  as  the  vision  floated 
by,  he  turned  and  looked  at  me — the  vision 
wife — with  a  look  I  had  seen  before,  and  I 
uttered  a  cry  as  I  recognized  Randolph 
Chance. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  135 


IX 


As  I  cried  out,  I  turned  slightly  and,  for 
a  moment,  lost  the  picture.  It  was 
changed  when  again  I  saw  it;  Randolph 
Chance  was  still  there,  but  he  no  longer 
advanced  toward  the  vision  wife — she  had 
faded  into  mist;  he  came  slowly  toward 
me.  There  was  a  beautiful  look  on  his 
face — I  cannot  describe  it — it  was  too  holy 
to  translate  into  language;  but  I  could  feel 
it  vibrate  through  my  being  until  it  set  my 
very  soul  a-quivering.  I  had  no  power  of 
resistance — no  wish  to  resist.  I  almost 
think  I  went  toward  him,  and  he  was  as 
real  to  me  as  if  he  were  in  the  flesh.  I 
could  feel  him  as  he  put  his  arm  around 
my  waist,  and  his  face  touched  mine.  The 


136  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

vision  child  had  melted  awajr ;  and  we  two 
were  alone;  I  knew  my  heart  then ;  I  knew 
I  loved  this  man. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  few  moments,  but 
such  moments  as  make  an  eternity,  for 
they  wipe  out  the  past,  even  as  death  blots 
out  a  life,  and  they  open  a  door  to  the 
future.  Up  to  that  time  I  had  never 
thought  that,  without  my  knowledge  or 
intent,  my  heart  could  slip  from  me — had 
never  dreamed  that  I,  whose  life  had  al- 
ways been  most  commonplace — I.  who  had 
had  my  share  of  wooing,  but  had  never 
felt  an  extra  heart-beat  because  of  it — no, 
never  dreamed  that  I,  this  Z  so  practical 
and  sensible,  could  be  carried  off  my  feet 
by  a  vision.  A  vision,  was  it?  Yes.  and 
yet  real,  too  real  in  some  ways,  since  it  re- 
vealed my  innermost  thought.  A  vision ! 
And  yet,  even  now  that  it  had  melted  into 
air,  I  was  clinging  to  it,  and  instead  of 
resenting  its  startling  revelation  of  self, 
was  dwelling  upon  it,  and  in  it,  with  a  de- 
light beyond  words. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  137 

I  sat  there  in  my  study,  my  head  bent, 
and  my  hands  loosely  clasped  in  my  lap, 
living  it  over  and  over  again.  Out  of 
doors,  the  soft  gray  dusk  had  hushed  the 
tired  world  in  its  arms.  Within,  the  still- 
ness of  night  had  settled  down  upon  the 
room.  By  and  by  the  moon  rose  above 
the  great  waters  of  the  lake,  and  on  shore 
the  trees  were  casting  silent,  solemn  shad- 
ows, made  visible  by  the  soft,  hazy  light 
that  lay  between  them.  Once  in  a  while 
a  bird  uttered  its  night  cry,  or  some  little 
brooding  note,  and  over  on  the  vine-clad 
gallery,  Mrs.  Thrush  still  crooned  a  lullaby 
to  her  little  child,  who  lay  asleep — soft  and 
warm,  on  her  mother-breast. 

I  was  no  longer  lonely,  no  longer  shut 
out  from  it  all — there  was  the  bird  on  its 
nest;  the  little  wife  and  mother  in  her 
home ;  and  I — I  was  very  near  them — akin 
to  them.  I  had  seen  myself  in  my  home, 
with  my  child,  and  my  husband;  I  had 
felt  his  dear  arms  about  me,  and  his  dear 
face  close  to  mine.  I  was  no  longer  an 


138  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

alien.  I,  too,  had  a  place  in  the  heart  of 
another. 

Still  I  sat  and  dreamed,  and  even  the 
ringing  of  my  door-bell  failed  to  rouse  me : 
but  when  I  heard  the  maid  say  to  someone : 

"She  has  been  downstairs  to-night,  but 
I  think  she  has  gooa  up  now,  an/3  I  don't 
like  to  call  her,  " 

I  started  forward,  saying  quickly : 

"No,  I  am  here — I  will  see  any  one  " 

And  so  he  came  in,  but  it  was  not  tht 
one  I  expected.  It  was  Mr.  Gregory. 

I  think  that  he  found  my  embarrassment 
on  greeting  him  both  gratifying  and  en- 
couraging, but  its  cause  was  alien  to  his 
thought.  I  was  brought  back  from  an- 
other world,  as  it  were,  with  a  rude  shock, 
and  in  my  enfeebled  condition,  consequent 
upon  a  severe  illness  could  not  control  my- 
self. Indeed  I  did  not  feel  that  I  was  mis- 
tress of  myself  at  any  time  during  the 
evening. 

After  a  word  or  two,  which  I  cannot  re 
call,  I  stammered  out : 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  139 

"I  was  not  expecting  you  this  evening 
— I  had  not  sent  for  you." 

"I  know  that  you  have  not,"  he  an- 
swered— then  dropping  his  voice  a  trifle, 
he  added,  "I  could  not  wait  any  longer — I 
found  it  difficult  to  wait  so  long  as  this.  I 
hardly  dared  hope  that  I  might  see  you 
this  evening,  but  I  felt  I  must  try." 

Intent  upon  sparing  him  the  pain  of  a 
spoken  declaration,  I  exclaimed : 

"Oh,  Mr.  Gregory,  don't!  please  don't 
say  anything  more.  I  am  not  deserving 
of  your  esteem  and  kindness. " 

He  came  nearer  me,  and  his  voice  was 
at  once  tender  and  reverent,  as  he  said : 

"You  are  more  than  worthy  of  what  I 
have  to  offer,  which  is  myself,  and  all  that 
I  have." 

"Don't!"  I  cried  again;  "don't  say  any- 
thing more !  Let  us  imagine  this  unsaid !" 

"Such  words  can  never  be  recalled,"  he 
said  gravely. 

"They  must  be,"  I  persisted;  "I  cannot 
accept !  I  have  nothing  to  give  in  return !" 


140  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

A  look  of  disappointment  came  over  his 
i  *,ce,  and  if  I  mistake  not,  it  was  shaded 
with  displeasure.  "I  hardly  expected 
this,  Miss  Leigh,  I  have  hardly  been  led  to 
expect  this." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,  Mr.  Gregory," 
I  replied,  more  calmly  than  I  had  spoken 
before ;  "  I  know  that  I  have  accepted  your 
attentions — you  have  had  every  reason  to 
expect  a  different  answer.  I'll  not  try  to 
deceive  you,  or  keep  anything  from 
you.  I'll  tell  you  that  I  have  not  been 
trifling.  I  have  understood  you  for  some 
time " 

He  interrupted  me  here. 

"Yes,  you  must  have  done  so;  my  at- 
tentions to  you  could  have  but  one  inter- 
pretation, if  I  were  a  man  of  honor,  and 
you  knew  I  was  that. ' ' 

"I  did,  indeed,"  I  exclaimed.  And 
then  my  mind  went,  with  a  flash  like 
lightning,  to  Randolph  Chance,  and  I  felt 
a  sudden  resentment.  Had  not  he  shown 
me  attentions  that  no  man  of  honor  can 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  141 

bestow  upon  a  woman,  unless  he  wishes  to 
make  her  his  wife?  Why  had  he  left  me 
in  this  strait?  Why  had  he  not  spoken 
out?  Why  had  he  not  claimed  before  the 
world  that  which  he  had  taken  such  pains 
to  win?  I  was  uncertain  about  Randolph 
Chance ;  I  had  never  been  uncertain  about 
Mr.  Gregory.  Why?  Because  I  had  per- 
fect confidence  in  his  honor.  Was  he  not 
the  better  man — the  more  trustworthy? 
Why  could  I  not  marry  him?  I  loved  an- 
other man.  A  wave  of  shame  and  anger 
swept  my  face. 

"I  have  all  along  been  expecting  to 
marry  you.  I  have  not  been  trifling, "  I 
cried  out. 

He  stepped  forward,  and  took  my  hand. 
It  was  as  cold  as  ice. 

"What  is  it  then,  Constance,  that  has 
changed  you?  Have  I  done  anything 
since  your  illness  to  make  you  think  less 
of  me?" 

I  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  my 
lips  were  so  stiff  and  dry  that  they  scarce 


142  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

would  do  my  bidding.  I  must  have 
spoken  very  indistinctly. 

"No — no."  I  said  slowly;  "I  will  tell 
you  everything — I  have  done  you  a  wrong, 
an  unintentional  wrong,  but  I  will  do  pen- 
ance— I  have  seen  myself  to-night — "'  I 
paused  here ;  Mr.  Gregory  was  a  practical 
man;  had  I  told  him  that  a  vision  had 
changed  my  attitude,  he  would  have 
thought  me  insane.  I  myself  had  begun 
to  entertain  doubts  as  to  my  sanity.  "I 
know  myself  now,"  I  faltered,  "I  know 
my  heart — I  love  another  man." 

Mr.  Gregory  rose,  and  began  pacing  the 
floor. 

"This  surprises  me  greatly,"  he  said  at 
length;  "there  must  have  been  another 
courtship — it  would  seem  that  you  must 
have  known  something  of  how  matters 
were  tending." 

"I  have  known  nothing  until  to-night. 
There  has  been  no  courtship,  in  the  ordi- 
nary acceptation  of  that  word — I'll  tell  you 
all.  even  if  it  humbles  me  completely,  as  a 


How  to  Cook  Husbands.  143 

penalty  for  what  I  have  done  to  you.  Thp 
man  I  love — "  I  could  feel  the  blood  mant- 
ling my  face  and  neck,  "has  never  ad- 
dressed me." 

Mr.  Gregory  paused,  and  looked  at  me. 

"This  is  extraordinary,"  he  said. 

"It  is — I  know  it  is — it  is  most  of  all  so 
to  me,  for  it  is  wholly  unlike  what  I  have 
been  all  my  life. " 

"Let  us  not  talk  of  this  any  more  to- 
night, Miss  Leigh,"  he  said,  with  evident 
relief;  "I  have  been  wrong  to  press  this 
matter  now,  when  you  are  hardly  recov- 
ered. You  are  not  yourself.  This  is 
something  transitory,  no  doubt.  Later  on, 
you  may  feel  differently. " 

"No,  no!"  I  exclaimed  eagerly,  "now 
that  we  have  begun,  let  us  say  it  all. 
Don't — I  beg  of  you,  don't  go  away  with 
a  feeling  that  I  don't  know  my  mind.  I 
am  weak  and  miserable  to-night — "  here 
the  tears  choked  my  voice,  and  I  all  but 
broke  down,  "but  I  am  miserable  because 
I  have  learned  my  true  feeling,  and  know 
that  I  must  disappoint " 


1 4  t  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

I  could  not  go  on,  and  again  he  sat  down 
beside  me  and  took  my  hand. 

"1  cannot  understand  you,"  he  said 
simply. 

"I  can't  understand  myself,"  I  replied; 
"but  all  this  is  none  the  less  real  for  that. 
I  have  learned  of  it  to-night,  but  it  has  ex- 
isted before ;  it  explains  many  things  in 
the  past  year." 

"If  that  is  the  case,  then  I  must  accept 
your  decision  as  final." 

"It  is,  indeed,"  I  answered  briefly. 

He  rose,  and  walked  the  room  in  silence 
again;  then  pausing  once  more,  he  said 
calmly,  and  with  no  trace  of  anger. 

"This  is  the  disappointment  of  my  life." 

I  said  nothing.  What  could  I  say?  To 
utter  any  platitudes  about  being  sorry, 
would  have  been  to  insult  him. 

"A  man  cannot  live  to  my  age — lam 
fifty-two,  Miss  Leigh — without  experienc- 
ing disappointment,  but  I  have  known 
nothing  equal  to  this." 

He  paced  the  room  a  few  moments,  and 
then  said : 


How  To  Cook  Husbands*  145 

"This  interview  must  be  distressing  to 
you.  I  am  very  sorry  I  brought  it  about 
before  you  were  strong  and  well." 

"Say  one  thing  before  you  go,  Mr. 
Gregory,"  I  cried,  "only  say  that  you 
don't  think  I  have  willfully  misled  you — 
say  that  you  respect  me  still. " 

His  face  was  stirred  by  a  slight  quiver, 
as  a  placid  lake  is  stirred  by  an  impulse  of 
the  evening  air. 

"You  have  had,  and  you  always  will 
have  my  deepest  respect,  and  my  deepest 
affection." 

He  took  my  hand  silently,  and  then 
quietly  left  the  room. 

And  I  sat  there  until  I  heard  the  front 
door  close.  Then  I  went  upstairs,  but  I 
remember  nothing  after  reaching  the  first 
landing. 

They  found  me  lying  there.  They  said 
I  must  have  fainted. 


146  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 


X 


I  WAS  badly  upset  for  several  days. 
For  a  time  I  resolutely  put  all  thought 
of  what  had  occurred  from  my  mind, 
but  as  soon  as  I  felt  able,  I  sat  down,  with 
the  whole  matter  before  me,  as  it  were, 
and  deliberately  looked  it  in  the  face.  I 
think  I  never  felt  more  inane  in  my  life 
than  when  I  remembered  my  folly,  as  I 
now  regarded  it.  All  that  saved  me  from 
utter  self-abasement  was  the  fact  that  it 
had  occurred  at  a  time  when  I  was  at  such 
a  low  ebb  physically,  by  reason  of  illness. 
I  determined  to  try  to  forget  it,  as  speedily 
as  possible.  But,  however  keenly  I  felt 
the  humiliation  and  folly  of  my  emotion 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  147 

upon  that  strange  night,  it  never  occurred 
to  me  to  waver,  when  recalling  my  deci- 
sion to  bring  matters  between  Mr.  Gregory 
and  myself  to  an  end.  My  refusal  of  him 
had  been  brought  about  by  one  cause,  and 
only  one — that  I  fully  realized ;  and  now 
that  I  had  repudiated  the  cause,  I  might 
have  been  expected  to  reconsider  the  re- 
fusal. But  I  did  "not. 

Soon  after  I  was  up  and  about  once 
more,  I  learned  that  my  little  friend  had 
not  sent  the  flowers.  I  thought — no,  I  did 
not  think!  but  I  cherished  secretly  a — 
well,  no !  I  cherished  nothing  in  secret  or 
in  public! 

I  learned  something  else,  soon  after  get- 
ting up,  and  this  was  that  a  story  was  go- 
ing the  rounds  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Greg- 
ory had  broken  our  engagement — and  my 
d!sappointment  had  well-nigh  occas:ored 
me  a  relapse.  But  in  a  twinkling,  aln.cst 
before  I  had  time  to  get  indignant,  Mrs. 
Catlin  was  running  about,  telling  every- 
body that  Mr.  Gregory  had  confided  in 


148  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

her,  in  strictest  confidence,  the  truth  of 
the  matter,  which  was  that  I  had  ended 
the  affair,  and  not  he. 

I  was  much  moved  by  this  manly  act 
on  Mr.  Gregory's  part.  He  showed  his 
shrewdness,  too;  he  could  not  announce 
this  in  public,  or  go  to  people  one  by  one, 
so  he  confided  it  to  Mrs.  Catlin,  and  told 
her  not  to  tell. 

One  Sabbath  evening  about  ten 
o'clock,  I  began  to  lock  up  the  house. 
Early  retirement  is  something  all  but  un- 
known to  me,  but  that  night,  having  no 
particular  reason  for  sitting  up,  I  was 
alout  to  indulge  in  it  as  a  novelty. 

I  raised  the  shade  of  one  of  the  study 
windows,  with  intent  to  draw  the  bolt,  but 
my  hand  paused  in  the  act,  for  my  eyes 
were  captured  by  a  scene  of  surpassing 
beauty.  Fall  had  lately  swept  her  gor- 
geous leaves  one  side,  and  closed  her  doors 
for  the  season,  and  we  were  now  standing 
on  the  threshold  of  winter.  The  early 
snows  are  apt  to  be  soft  and  clinging;  it  is 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  149 

later  on,  usually,  when  the  thermometer 
takes  a  plunge  downward,  that  they  be- 
come crisp  and  hard.  It  is  seldom,  how 
aver,  at  any  time  of  year  that  the  atmos- 
pheric conditions  are  favorable  to  such  a 
creation  as  I  beheld  that  night.  I  hardly 
know  just  what  is  necessary  to  make  it  all 
—a  still,  moderate  cold,  and  a  very  humid 
air  are  among  the  most  important  condi- 
tions, I  believe. 

When  I  stepped  outside  my  door  early 
in  the  evening,  the  air  all  about  me 
seemed  to  be  snow,  not  separated  into 
flakes,  but  diffused  evenly.  Altogether  it 
had  the  effect  of  a  heavy  white  fog,  and  I 
could  see  even  then,  that  it  was  settling  in 
visible,  palpable,  feathery  forms,  not  only 
upon  the  ground,  but  upon  every  bush  and 
tree  as  well.  It  was  a  most  unusual  scene, 
and  I  gazed  at  it  long  and  admiringly ;  but 
having  no  fondness  for  walk-ing  through 
soft,  -clinging  snow,  I  was  not  enticed  to 
sally  forth,  as  I  always  am  when  the 
snow  is  firm  and  sparkling. 


150  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

But  by  ten  o'clock  the  temperature  had 
changed,  and  in  the  cooler  air  the  almost 
imperceptible  melting  of  the  snow  had 
been  stayed. 

The  white  carpet  that  had  slowly  been 
sinking,  was  now  stationary,  and  was  cov- 
ered by  a  firm  crust  that  gleamed  in  the 
moonlight.  There  was  no  sparkle  on  the 
trees,  but  the  feathery  tufts  and  pinions 
had  ceased  floating  to  the  ground,  and 
melting  into  air.  The  scene,  in  all  its 
matchless  beauty,  was  arrested — held  upon 
nature's  canvas  for  a  few  hours,  by  the 
Master  hand. 

Stay  in  doors  that  night!  Would  I  be 
so  wicked  as  to  turn  my  back,  or  close  my 
eyes  upon  one  of  the  most  delectable  scenes 
that  ever  a  kind  Providence  spread  before 
the  soul  of  human  creature!  Would  I 
deliberately  slight  such  an  exhibition  of 
love  and  marvelous  skill?  Not  I ! 

It  didn't  take  me  long  to  catch  up  hat 
and  jacket,  and  with  a  heart  that  beat 
high,  slip  from  my  house,  as  a  greyhound 
slips  the  leash,  and  hie  me  away. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  151 

What  mattered  it  that  the  neighborhood 
lights  were  raised — a  story,  at  least — and 
that  the  owners  of  all  the  villas  near  at 
hand,  were  preparing  for  decorous,  tem- 
porary retirement.  I  merely  pitied  them 
for  their  stupidity,  and  went  my  way.  I 
had  long  been  a  law  unto  myself,  and 
while  I  did  not  believe  in  flaunting  my  in- 
dependence in  their  faces,  I  none  the  less 
continued  to  enjoy  it. 

There  are  nights  when  to  sleep  would  be 
the  sin  of  an  ingrate;  'twould  be  like  gath- 
ering up  the  good  things  of  Providence, 
and  hurling  them  from  out  the  window,  in 
reckless  waste.  And  this  night  was  such 
a  one. 

The  keen  air,  and  the  entrancing  beauty 
about  me,  seemed  to  run  in  a  subtle,  fas- 
cinating torrent  through  my  veins,  and 
lend  me  wings.  I  felt  as  though  I  were 
buoyed  up  by  magic  hands;  I  hardly 
think  I  set  foot  on  ground  the  whole  way, 
and  yet  I  must,  for  I  was  conscious  of  a 
crisp  crackle  of  the  snow  at  every  step. 


152  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

Oh,  is  there  any  sound  just  like  it !  Could 
our  poor  invalids  but  pitch  their  nostrums 
over  the  wall,  and  take  this  tonic  instead ! 

Some  friends  of  mine  moved  a  while 
ago  and  drove  their  family  stake  in  a 
spot  far  off  from  here.  They  are  con- 
tinually writing  me  of  a  region  of  per- 
petual sunshine  and  summer.  I  thought 
of  them  on  this  glorious  night,  and  pitied 
them  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  as  I 
often  have,  indeed,  since  they  went 
out  there.  Their 's  is  the  place  for  the  ex- 
tremely indigent,  no  doubt,  but  for  any 
one  who  can  command  a  dollar  or  so  for 
fuel,  this — this  is  the  land  of  delight. 

I  was  at  no  loss  as  to  direction;  our 
suburb  was  beautiful  throughout,  especi- 
ally all  along  by  the  lake,  but  there  was 
one  place  in  particular,  where  art  and  na- 
ture had  joined  hands,  with  a  result  inde- 
scribable. Toward  these  grounds  I  has- 
tened, on  this  particular  night. 

Oh,  the  glory  of  that  moon !  the  glory  of 
the  lake!  an  undulating  sea  of  waves, 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  153 

each  crested  with  a  feather,  as  soft,  as 
snowy  in  the  moonlight,  as  the  tinier  ones 
that  hung  upon  the  trees. 

I  ran  down  the  winding  avenue — the 
white  fog  still  lingered  in  the  deep  places, 
but  ahove,  all  was  clear  and  glorious. 
Erelong  I  entered  the  Dunham's  grounds. 
At  a  certain  point,  unmarked  to  the 
stranger's  eye,  a  rustic  flight  of  stairs,  now 
strewn  with  dead  leaves — padded  with 
snow  as  well,  to-night,  dips  down  from 
the  broad  driveway.  Quickly  I  made  my 
way  by  this  path,  and  erelong,  stood 
upon  one  of  the  little  rustic  bridges  span- 
ning the  ravine,  and  connecting  with  a 
similar  flight  of  ascending  stairs  upon  the 
other  side.  There  I  paused,  and  well  I 
might.  It  were  a  dull,  plodding  creature 
indeed,  who  would  not  be  spellbound  by 
such  a  scene !  On  either  hand  were  the 
sloping  wooded  sides  of  the  ravine  whose 
depths  were  shrouded  in  the  mysterious 
whiteness  of  the  fog ;  above  me,  a  short 
distance  in  front,  was  the  arch  of  the  broad, 


154  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

picturesque  bridge  with  which  the  drive- 
way spans  the  hollow.  The  little  rustic 
bridge  on  which  I  stood  was  much  lower 
than  the  larger  one ;  hence,  from  my  posi- 
tion, I  looked  through  the  archway,  be- 
yond, down,  and  far  along  the  ravine.  Can 
you  call  up  fairyland  to  your  mental  eye?  It 
would  pale  before  this  scene — those  feath- 
ery trees !  that  enchanting  vista !  I  stood 
there  drinking  it  in,  and  pitying  the  sleep- 
ing world.  I  could  not,  even  in  thought, 
express  my  delight  and  gratitude  for  being 
permitted  to  behold  such  beauty,  but 
finally  a  familiar  line  leaped  from  my  lips  : 

' '  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow. " 

I  can  never  forget  that  night ;  it  kindled 
and  warmed  my  heart  with  a  reverential 
fire.  If,  in  the  course  of  years,  my  way 
should  be  overcast ;  if,  for  a  time,  I  should 
let  the  artificial — the  ignoble,  clog  the  path, 
and  shut  me  out  from  the  light  of  heaven, 
even  then  I  shall  be  saved  from  doubt, 
which  is  always  engendered  by  our  stupid- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  155 

ity — the  things  of  our  own  manufacture — 
I  shall  be  saved  from  doubt  by  the  sweet, 
pure,  radiant  memory  of  that  winter, 
moonlight  scene.  Only  a  beneficent  God 
could  create  such  beauty. 


156  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 


XI 


ON  my  way  back — at  what  dissipated 
hour  I  firmly  decline  to  state — I  passed  a 
home  witb  an  interesting  history  tacked 
thereto. 

The  leading  events  were  brought  me  by 
one  of  those  active,  inquisitive  little  birds 
that  find  out  all  sorts  of  things,  and  often 
fetch  from  great  distances. 

The  couple  who  live  there,  though 
Americans,  once  lived  in  Winnipeg,  Mani- 
toba, and  it  was  in  that  place  that  the  hus- 
band fell  to  drinking.  The  little  bird 
above  alluded  to — the  bird  that  acts  as  a 
kind  of  domestic  ferret — told  me  that,  in 
the  early  years  of  their  married  life,  the 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  157 

wife  was  of  an  excitable,  hysterical  tem- 
perament, and  given  to  making  scenes. 
Just  here  let  me  digress  a  moment  to  erect 
a  warning  signboard.  I  have  a  friend 
who  is  busy  mixing  and  administering  a 
deadly  draught  to  her  domestic  happiness, 
and  yet  does  not  know  it.  She  has  only 
been  married  a  year,  and  she  uses  tears 
and  scenes,  in  general,  as  instruments  to 
pull  from  her  husband  the  attention,  affec- 
tion, and  devotion  she  craves.  The  tug 
waxes  increasingly  hard,  but  she  has  not, 
as  yet,  sense  enough  to  see  that,  and  de- 
sist. She  cannot  realize  that  the  success 
attained  by  such  methods  is  but  the  tem- 
porary and  external  beauty,  which,  in 
reality,  covers  a  failure  of  the  most  hope- 
less type,  just  as  the  flush  on  the  consump- 
tive's cheek  is  but  a  pitiable  counterfeit, 
and  covers  a  fatal  disease. 

Whether  in  this  particular  story,  the 
report  of  the  wife's  early  blunders  be  true 
or  false,  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that 
presently  the  husband  grew  careless  and 


158  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

indifferent ;  that  scene  followed  scene  be- 
tween them,  until  at  last  he  went  to  drink- 
ing. Then  the  little  wife  waxed  sober, 
thoughtful,  and  studied  much  within  her- 
self. This  awful  sorrow,  following  so 
closely  upon  the  heels  of  her  wedding-day 
joy,  matured  her  judgment — her  woman- 
hood, and  she  began  to  use  every  skillful 
device  to  call  back  her  husband  from  the 
dark  paths  he  had  chosen,  to  the  light, 
All  in  vain,  however;  and  when  she  real- 
ized this,  after  several  years  of  heroic 
effort,  she  made  one  last  scene,  and  told 
him  she  was  going  to  leave  him.  Then 
his  old-time  tenderness  returned — if  you 
can  compare  a  tenderness  which  was 
blurred  and  cringing,  with  that  which  was 
clear  and  manly.  He  begged  and  promised 
in  vain,  however,  for  she  had  lost  faith, 
and  a  lost  faith  is  not  found  again  for 
many  a  day. 

So  she  went  off,  and  she  covered  all 
traces  and  signs  so  carefully  that  no  anx- 
ious, heartbroken  effort  of  his  could  find 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  159 

her.  Meanwhile  she  wrote  him  frequently 
and  regularly,  and  although  he  knew  not 
where  to  send  reply,  it  is  quite  likely  she 
had  word  of  him  from  some  cne  to  whom 
she  had  given  her  confidence  in  this  dreary 
time. 

And  so  five  years  passed,  and  at  their 
close  she  walked  into  her  home  one  day, 
and  her  husband — a  man  once  more,  took 
her  in  his  arms,  and  looked  his  love  and 
joy  with  clear,  honest  eyes. 

They  came  to  our  city,  or  rather  this 
little  suburb  of  our  city,  soon  afterward, 
and  although  it  is  well-nigh  ten  years  now 
that  they  have  been  among  us,  there  has 
never  been  a  hint  of  trouble.  Hers  was  a 
unique  method,  but  it  brought  about  the 
desired  end. 

Verily  it  would  seem  that  for  some  din- 
ners, it  is  best  for  the  cook  to  vanish,  and 
leave  the  dishes  to  get  themselves. 

I  was  meditating  on  this  as  I  walked 
home  that  night,  and  the  next  morning, 
stirred  by  the  recollection  of  all  I  had  seen 


160  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

and  felt,  was  moved  to  write  out  a  story 
given  me  by  a  young  man — a  friend  of 
mine,  who  lives  at  a  great  distance  from 
here,  on  an  olive  ranch  out  of  Los  Gatos, 
California. 

I  wish  I  could  give  you  this  little  tale 
just  as  he  told  it.  I  can't,  I  know,  but  I'll 
do  my  best  in  trj'ing. 

Mrs.  Purblind  dropped  in  just  as  I  was 
reading  it  over  to  myself,  before  my  study 
fire. 

"Do  you  remember  my  story  about 
Duke?"  I  asked. 

''Yes,  I  liked  it,"  she  said,  "though  I'm 
not  very  partial  to  dogs. " 

"I  have  one  here  about  horses.  I've 
written  it  out  as  nearly  as  possible  as  my 
friend  told  it  to  me,  but  so  much  flavor  is 
lost  when  these  things  change  hands. 
Here  it  is,  and  I  think  that  the  lamenta- 
tion David  sang  over  Saul,  might  head  it. 

"A  while  ago  we  owned  a  couple  of 
horses — work  horses,  and  yet,  by  reason 
of  the  strength  of  their  affections,  they 


IW  To  Cook  Husbands.  161 

were  lifted  from  out  the  commonplace, 
and  enveloped  with  an  atmosphere  of  ro- 
mance that  gave  them  the  flavor  of  a  story 
book,  plumb  full  of  princes  and  heroes. 
And  by  the  way,  Prince  was  the  name  of 
one  of  them,  and  he  was  a  genuine  hero, 
as  you  will  see.  His  mate  was  called 
Nelly,  and  albeit  she  was  as  awkward  and 
as  angular  as  the  ideal  old  maid,  vastly 
inferior  to  Prince,  who  was  a  fine-looking 
chap,  yet  his  admiration  for  her  was  un- 
bounded. She  cared  for  him,  I'm  sure,  but 
she  was  less  demonstrative;  more  coquet- 
tish, I  would  say,  if  she  hadn't  been  too 
homely  a  beast  to  think  of,  in  connection 
with  such  a  word. 

"They  were  brought  up  together ;  were 
taught  by  the  same  master;  sat  on  the 
same  bench,  in  a  figurative  sense;  were 
lovers  from  the  very  first.  Prince  cer- 
tainly had  the  most  elegant  manners; 
Nelly  was  his  first  thought,  at  all  times, 
and  his  courtesy  to  her  savored  of  the  old 
school.  He  wouldn't  go  into  the  shed  of  a 


162  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

cold,  rainy  day  and  leave  Nelly  outside; 
but  if  she  went  in,  he  was  more  than  con  - 
tent  to  follow.  When  it  was  necessary  to 
separate  them — we  couldn't  always  work 
them  together — we  had  to  tie  Prince  with 
ropes  and  cables,  as  it  were,  to  hold  him 
fast.  Nelly  was  less  difficult  to  manage ; 
at  least,  she  would  let  him  go  out  of  sight 
without  fretting,  and  yet,  after  all,  she 
seemed  easier  if  he  were  at  hand.  I  re- 
member, one  day,  he  was  tied  in  front  of 
the  house,  and  she  was  loose,  grazing  near 
by.  As  long  as  he  could  see  her,  all  went 
well  enough,  but  the  moment  she  saun- 
tered around  the  fence,  he  began  first  to 
fidget,  then  to  paw  and  neigh,  and  finally 
to  struggle,  until  in  the  end,  he  broke  loose 
and  rushed  after  his  inamorata.  And  what 
a  time  he  made  over  her !  whinnying,  and 
demonstrating  his  delight  in  a  dozen  differ- 
ent ways.  She?  oh,  she  took  it  coolly,  but 
that  was  all  feminine  bosh,  or  coquetry  on 
her  part.  She  liked  to  have  him  near  her 
well  enough. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  163 

"There  was  an  amusing  thing  happened 
one  day,  down  in  the  field.  Father  and  I 
were  plowing  with  Nell.  We  had  tied 
Prince  to  a  tree,  the  other  side  of  the  knoll 
we  were  working  on,  and  supposed  he 
was  fast,  but  to  our  surprise,  just  as  we 
turned,  after  finishing  a  long  furrow,  we 
confronted  the  gentleman,  tree  and  all, 
standing  before  us  in  a  weak  and  fainting 
condition.  He  had  struggled  until  he  had 
uprooted  the  whole  business,  and  was  so 
used  up  in  consequence,  that  he  could 
hardly  stagger,  much  less  go  into  his  usual 
hysterics  over  Nell.  She  looked  as. amazed 
as  we  did,  and  I've  no  doubt  gave  him  a 
sound  curtain  lecture  on  his  folly  that 
night. 

"One  day  father  and  Ned  took  Prince 
down  into  the  field.  Steve  and  I  stayed 
up  near  the  house,  working  around  the 
vineyard.  Nelly  was  in  the  stable. 

"The  morning  was  half  gone,  when  all 
at  once  Steve  happened  to  turn  around, 
and  look  down  the  hill. 


164  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"  'Gosh,  Jack!'  he  exclaimed,  'the  barn's 
afire.' 

"I  gave  one  startled  look,  and  then  ran 
for  the  hose. 

'"Get  Nelly  out!'  I  cried  to  Steve;  but 
after  a  second  look,  I  called,  'No,  don't 
you  do  it !  Let  her  go !  it's  too  late !' 

"  'I  won't  let  her  go!'  he  shouted;  'do 
you  think  I'll  stand  by  and  see  Nelly 
burned  to  death !' 

"  'You'd  be  a  fool  to  go  in  now!  Look 
at  that  stable !  Here !  Stand  back !  Have 
you  lost  your  wits?' 

"  'Let  me  go!'  he  cried;  'Jack,  get  out 
of  the  way !' 

' '  But  I  threw  him  down  and  held  him.  I 
was  bigger  than  he;  older,  and  cooler- 
headed  too. 

"  'There,  I  give  in,'  he  said  in  a  mo- 
ment;'it's  wicked  to  lose  time  this  way. 
Let  me  up,  Jack,  and  we'll  get  the  hose. 
I  promise  you  I  won't  go  in.' 

"We  ran  for  the  hose,  and  turned  on  all 
the  water  we  could  command,  and  by  this 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  165 

time  mother  and  the  servant  girl  had 
come  from  the  house,  and  were  helping 
us. 

"We  could  hear  Nelly  struggling  in  her 
stall,  and  I  tell  you  it  made  us  sick !  Un- 
luckily we  had  chained  her,  in  anticipation 
of  her  trying  to  get  loose,  and  go  after 
Prince.  She'd  never  been  left  at  home 
this  way  before,  and  we'd  taken  extra 
pains  to  secure  her. 

"The  stable  doors  were  fastened  by  a 
heavy  bolt;  again  and  again  I  tried  to 
push  it  back,  but  it  was  so  fiery  hot  I 
couldn't  touch  it,  and  when  I  tried  to  ham- 
mer it,  the  flames  drove  me  off. 

"There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  leave 
poor  Nelly  to  her  fate.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
divined  our  intent,  for,  as  we  turned  away, 
she  uttered  a  piercing  scream.  Mother 
burst  into  tears. 

"  'I  can't  stand  it,'  she  said,  covering 
her  ears. 

"Again  and  again  Nelly's  voice  rang  out. 
Steve  stood  there,  his  face  drawn  and 
white.  All  at  once  he  took  out  his  watch. 


166  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"  'It's twelve  o'clock!' he  cried;  'father'll 
be  home  in  a  moment,  and  if  Prince  hears 
Nelly  he'll  go  mad.  Head  'em  off,  Jack !' 

"I  didn't  wait  for  another  word,  but  ran 
with  all  my  might  down  the  road  by 
which  they  always  came. 

"As  fate  would  have  it,  they  had  chosen 
the  other  one  that  day,  and  were  well 
along,  before  I  caught  sight  of  them. 
Father  had  taken  Prince  out  of  the  plow, 
and  harnessed  him  to  a  little  single-seated 
gig  we  had.  He  was  driving  him,  and 
Ned  was  walking  behind.  I  saw  Steve 
running  toward  them,  but  he  was  still  at 
a  distance. 

"'Father.'  I  yelled  at  the  top  of  my 
voice,  'stop!  father!  the  stable's  on  fire. 
Turn  Prince  back.  Nelly  is  burning !' 

"Father  didn't  seem  to  understand,  for 
although  he  listened,  he  kept  driving 
slowly  on. 

"I  shouted  again,  running  toward  them, 
and  gesticulating  frantically.  All  at  once 
Ned  caught  my  meaning,  and  bounding 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  167 

like  a  deer  in  front  of  the  gig,  grabbed 
Prince  by  the  head  to  turn  him,  but  at 
that  very  moment  a  terrible  scream  from 
poor  Nelly  split  our  ears,  and  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  there  was  a  maddened 
horse  plunging  in  midair,  with  four  strong 
men  clinging  to  him,  trying  to  hold  him 
back. 

"  'Let  him  go,  boys!  Let  him  go!' 
shouted  father;  'it's  no  use!  Let  him  go, 
I  tell  you!  He'll  kill  us  all !' 

'"Oh,  God!  I  can't  let  the  old  fellow 
burn  up!'  sobbed  Steve. 

"But  Prince  had  begun  to  lay  about  him 
with  his  teeth,  and  father  knocked  Steve 
down  to  get  him  out  of  the  way. 

"I  believe  we  all  sobbed,  as  we  watched 
the  old  hero  go  up  that  hill  and  into  the 
stable ;  Nelly  was  quiet  now,  and  the  doors 
were  down. 

"We  heard  him  groan  once  or  twice,  and 
then  mother  came  to  meet  us,  and  took  us 
all  into  the  house. 

"It's  out  yonder — the  monument  we 
put  up.  It's  over  both  of  them. " 


168  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"Well,  what  has  that  horse  story  to  do 
with  men?"  asked  a  sneering  voice,  when  I 
had  finished  my  little  tale,  and  Mrs.  Pur- 
blind and  I  were  sitting  silent. 

I  turned,  and  to  my  astonishment  and 
disgust  saw  Mrs.  Cynic,  who  had  come  in 
quietly,  unobserved  by  me,  as  I  was  read- 
ing. 

I  should  not  have  answered  her  a  word, 
but  Mrs.  Purblind  thought  to  avert  an 
awkward  situation,  so  she  said : 

"It  illustrates  the  devotion  of  the  mas- 
culine nature,  I  suppose." 

"In  horses?  Yes;  it's  a  pity  that  it 
hasn't  been  evoluted  into  men." 

"It  has,"  I  answered  curtly,  "for  those 
who  are  capable  of  seeing  and  appreciat- 
ing it." 

This  probably  made  her  angry,  for  she 
turned  on  me  with  her  most  evil  expres- 
sion: 

"It's  a  mystery  to  me  why,  with  your 
overweening  admiration  for  the  other  sex, 
you  haven't  married,  Miss  Leigh.  You 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  169 

must  have  had  countless  opportunities; 
child-like  faith,  such  as  yours,  must  be 
very  attractive  to  them. " 

I  stared  at  her  a  moment  in  silence ;  her 
insolence  stupefied  me.  Then  I  think  I 
opened  the  nearest  window,  and  pitched 
her  out.  Mrs.  Purblind  insists  I  did  not 
do  that,  exactly,  but  that  I  got  rid  of  her. 
As  she  hasn't  been  in  since,  a  desirable 
result  was  obtained,  and  I  don't  much  care 
what  the  method  may  have  been. 

I  aired  my  house  the  rest  of  the  day, 
having  a  wish  to  cleanse  it,  and  protect 
my  moral  nature,  much  as  one  would  rid 
a  place  of  sewer  gas,  to  protect  the  physi- 
cal being. 

I  was  not  in  a  very  good  temper  after 
all  this,  and  it  annoyed  me  to  see  Ran- 
dolph Chance  coming  in  before  taking  his 
train.  He  had  been  calling  oftener  than 
usual  of  late,  but  he  didn't  seem  to  have 
much  to  say,  and  so  his  coming  gave  no 
especial  pleasure. 

To-day  what  talk  we  had  ran  on  flowers 


170  How  To  Coofc  Hosbandis. 

for  a  time,  when  Mr.  Chance,  awkwardly 
and  out-of-placedly,  asked  me  how  I  liked 
the  Reve  cTor  rose.  This  was  the  kind  of 
rose  I  had  received  every  morning,  during 
my  illness. 

I  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  I  confess 
my  heart  was  beating  faster. 

He  flushed,  and  said  abruptly : 

"You  must  have  known  I  sent  you 
those." 

"I  did  not,"  I  answered  rather  coldly; 
"there  was  no  card  or  note  with  them." 

"I  thought  you'd  know,"  he  said  with 
increasing  embarrassment;  and  then  he 
added,  almost  desperately,  "you  must 
know,  Constance,  that  I  love  you." 

"I  know  nothing/'  I  replied,  drawing 
myself  up  haughtily;  "I  take  nothing  of 
this  kind  for  granted.  If  you  want  me  to 
understand,  you  must  come  out  openly. " 

"I  have  done  enough,  surely."  he  said, 
"enough  to  lead  you  to  guess  the  truth." 

"I  guess  nothing  of  this  sort!"  I  reiter- 
ated; "what  right  have  you  to  place  me  in 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  171 

this  position?  What  right  have  you,  or 
any  other  man  to  deprive  a  woman  of  one 
of  her  dearest  privileges — that  of  being 
wooed?" 

"Constance!"  he  cried,  and  all  his  em 
barrassment  was  gone,  "aren't  there  a 
thousand  ways  of  saying  'I  love  you?'  and 
haven't  I  said  it  in  every  way  but  one?" 

"That  one  was  the  most  important  of 
all,"  I  answered;  "I  would  have  given 
more  to  hear  those  words  than  to  receive 
every  other  token. " 

His  face  lighted  up  with  a  sudden  flash, 
and  he  started  impulsively  toward  me. 

"Then  you  do  love  me,  my  darling — I 
have  hardly  dared  to  hope." 

But  I  drew  back,  and  answered  pas- 
sionately, 

"No,  I  do  not!  I  love  no  man  who  can 
trifle  with  ii  young  girl,  or  any  woman — 
no  man  who  has  the  effrontery  to  expect 
some  one  to  take  for  granted  a  courtship 
that  has  never  existed !" 

"For  Heaven's  sake, what  do  you  mean?" 


172  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"Go  to  Miss  Sprig  and  inquire;  she  has 
more  reason  to  take  your  love  for  granted 
than  I." 

"I'll  not  go  to  her,  but  I  shall  leave 
you,"  he  said,  with  a  white  face.  "You 
certainly  don't  care  for  me,  or  you  would 
never  deal  me  such  an  unjust  thrust  as 
this." 

And  then  I  heard  him  close  the  front 
door.  I  think  the  neighborhood  heard 
him. 

I  walked  to  the  window.     He  was  gone. 

I  told  myself  I  was  glad  of  it — that  a 
good  lesson  had  been  taught. 

Which  of  us  was  teacher  remained 
somewhat  obscure. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  173 


XII 


IT  might  reasonably  be  supposed  that 
the  event  last  narrated  disturbed  my  life. 
It  did  in  a  measure,  and  for  a  time,  but  I 
was  not  very  long  in  bringing  it  back  to  its 
accustomed  channel. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  although  we 
lived  across  the  street  from  one  another,  I 
saw  nothing  of  Mr.  Chance  for  many 
weeks.  Perhaps  it  is  not  strange  though, 
after  all,  since  each  of  us  was  taking 
pains  to  avoid  the  other,  and  we  knew 
each  other's  habits  of  life  pretty  well  by 
this  time. 

But  if  I  didn't  see  him,  I  heard  of  him 
frequently  enough,  for  Mrs.  Purblind 


174  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

rarely  ever  met  me  without  saying  some- 
thing about  "Dolph,"  as  she  called  him. 
She  was  exceedingly  fond  of  him.  and 
with  good  cause,  for  he  was  a  most  affec- 
tionate, thoughtful,  unselfish  brother.  He 
was  very  different  from  her,  and  they 
were  not  confidential  friends,  when  serious 
matters  were  concerned,  but  they  were 
companionable,  nevertheless. 

It  is  not  likely  Mrs.  Purblind  realized 
that  she  was  shut  out  from  something  that 
deeply  concerned  her  brother;  but  she 
worried  about  him.  She  was  certain  he 
was  ill — he  had  little  appetite,  and  was  in 
no  way  like  himself,  she  said.  Miss  Sprig 
wondered  what  had  come  over  him. 

I  believe  Mrs.  Purblind  must  have  been 
deaf  as  well  as  blind,  otherwise  the  neigh- 
borhood gossip  regarding  Mr.  Chance  and 
myself,  which  was  rife  a  year  ago,  would 
certainly  have  reached  her.  Evidently  she 
had  heard  nothing,  and  she  continued  to 
keep  my  innermost  breast  in  a  secret  fer- 
ment, by  pouring  her  fears  and  specula- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  175 

tions  into  my  ear.  She  even  confided  in 
me  that  she  had  for  a  long  time  suspected 
the  existence  of  an  affair  between  Miss 
Sprig  and  her  brother,  but  this  young 
woman  declared  that  he  never  paid  her  the 
slightest  attention  of  a  matrimonial  char- 
acter; that  he'd  been  very  kind  to  her, 
very  jolly,  and  friendly,  but  that  was  all. 

I  think  that  if  Mount  Vesuvius  had 
leaped  out  of  me,  and  taken  its  departure, 
I  could  scarce  have  felt  more  relieved.  I 
really  had  been  harboring  a  volcano  for 
some  time,  and  it  was  a  hot  tenant. 

Shortly  after  hearing  'this  latter  piece  of 
Mrs.  Purblind's  news,  another  bit  was 
added. 

"Dolph  has  gone  away,"  she  said,  one 
day;  "left  suddenly,  this  morning.  He 
confessed  to  being  played  out,  and  I'm 
sure  he  looks  it.  He's  gone  on  to  Buffalo, 
to  brother  Dave's. " 

That  night  I  sat  down  and  wrote  a  let- 
ter; when  one  has  done  wrong,  his  first 
conscious  act  should  be  to  confess. 


176  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

I  was  in  a  trying  position ;  one  is  at  such 
a  time.  Two  months  had  elapsed,  and 
Mr.  Chance  might  have  changed  his  mind 
and  intent.  Men  do,  occasionally ;  women, 
too.  And  indeed  he  never  had  asked  me 
to  marry  him.  True,  that  is  the  supposi- 
tion when  a  man,  with  any  real  manhood 
about  him,  tells  a  woman  he  loves  her — 
when  he  shows  her  marked  attentions,  in 
fact ;  but,  as  I  said  to  Mr.  Chance,  I  did  not 
intend  to  take  such  things  for  granted.  I 
had  not  changed  in  that  respect.  I  had, 
however,  become  convinced  that  I  was 
harsh  and  unjust  to  him.  It  is  a  blunder- 
ing teacher  who  takes  badness  in  a  child 
for  granted — does  not  wait  for  proof.  It 
is  an  inspired  teacher  who  ignores  the  bad 
sometimes,  even  after  it  has  been  proven. 
To  think  the  worst,  so  some  of  the  psychol- 
ogists tell  us,  will  often  create  the  worst. 
Even  a  cook  does  well  to  make  the  most 
of  her  materials.  Her  dishes  will  be  likely 
to  turn  out  ill,  if  she  treats  the  ingredients 
with  disrespect.  It  would  seem  that  I, 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  177 

who  had  in  a  manner  made  a  specialty  of 
matrimonial  cookery,  had  something  yet 
to  learn.  Randolph  Chance  had  given  me 
a  lesson. 

In  my  letter,  I  said  that  time  and 
thought  had  shown  me  I  had  done  him  a 
wrong,  and  that  I  was  very  sorry;  that, 
no  doubt,  he  had  changed  in  some  feelings, 
and  it  was,  perhaps,  not  likely  we  should 
meet  very  soon ;  but  that  I  wished  him  to 
know  I  realized  my  mistake,  and  that  I 
was  still  his  friend. 

The  second  day  after  I  had  written,  I 
heard  from  him ;  our  letters  were  penned 
the  same  night,  and  must  have  crossed 
each  other.  In  his  he  said  he  had  held  off 
as  long  as  he  could,  but  was  coming  right 
back  from  Buffalo  to  see  me.  He  was 
certain  he  could  explain  everything ;  he  had 
nothing  to  hide,  and  he  hoped  I  would  let 
him  tell  me  what  was  in  his  heart;  that 
for  months  he  had  known  but  one  real 
wish,  one  real  aspiration — to  win  me  for 
his  wife.  He  begged  me  to  let  him  begin 


178  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

anew,  and  make  an  effort  to  attain  this 
great  end. 

That  evening,  in  the  gloaming,  I  was  at 
my  study  window.  I  could  look  into  the 
parlor  of  the  Thrush  home.  A  shadow 
had  fallen  upon  that  dear  nest ;  one  of  the 
little  birdies  had  flown  away,  but  it  was 
now  forever  sheltered  from  all  storms  in 
the  dear  Christ's  bosom,  so  all  was  well. 
The  gentle  little  mother  was  nearly  crushed 
at  first,  even  more  so  than  the  father, 
though  he  felt  the  loss  deeply;  but  erelong 
she  lifted  her  sweet  face,  and  smiled 
through  her  tears.  And  now,  at  the  end 
of  two  weeks,  she  was  to  her  husband,  at 
least,  as  cheerful  as  ever,  even  more  ten- 
der, and  she  made  the  home  as  bright  as 
before.  So  many  women  are  selfish  in 
their  grief,  unwise  too.  They  act  as  if 
their  husbands  were  aliens,  and  did  not 
share  the  sorrow.  It  is  true  the  man  usu- 
ally recovers  sooner  than  the  woman 
from  such  a  blow,  but  no  one  should  blame 
him  for  that.  His  nature  is  different,  nee- 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  179 

essarily  different;  not  in  kind,  but  in  de- 
gree. It  has  to  be ;  his  is  the  outside  bat- 
tle; he  must  needs  be  rugged.  But  "a 
man's  a  man  for  a'  that,"  and  the  woman 
who  shuts  him  out  in  the  hour  of  bereave- 
ment, or  who  darkens  the  home  continu- 
ously, and  overcasts  its  good  cheer,  is  both 
selfish  and  foolish.  In  such  cases  husband 
and  wife  are  parted,  instead  of  being 
brought  nearer  to  one  another,  as  they 
should  be  when  they  have  a  little  ambas- 
sador in  the  court  of  Heaven. 

My  heart  was  very  tender  that  evening, 
and  as  I  sat  beside  the  glowing  fire,  before 
the  lamps  were  lighted,  my  thoughts  ran 
to  Mrs.  Purblind.  The  poor  little  woman 
had  seemed  sad  of  late,  and  I  guessed, 
without  word  from  her,  that  it  was  be- 
cause her  husband  was  going  out  so  much 
at  night.  I  did  wish  she  could  see  some 
things  as  they  really  were. 

She  sat  there  with  me  that  evening — in 
spirit,  at  least,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
fireplace,  and  her  mournful  face  touched 
me  deeply. 


180  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  care  for  his  home," 
she  said  sadly. 

"Make  him  care  for  it.  Man  is  a 
domestic  animal.  If  he  doesn't  stay  at 
home,  something  is  wrong. " 

"I  do  all  I  can,"  she  answered  in  a  dull 
tone. 

"No  doubt  you  do  now,"  I  said;  "but 
learn  more,  and  then  you  will  improve." 

"I  was  locking  over  some  trunks  in  the 
attic  to-day,  and  I  came  across  my  wed- 
ding gown.  It  called  up  so  much!  I 
can't  get  over  it — "  and  she  sobbed  aloud. 

I  couldn't  speak  just  then.  The  tears 
were  too  near. 

"Oh,  when  first  I  wore  that  gown,  how 
happy  I  was,  and  how  I  looked  forward  to 
the  future !  Everything  was  bright  then, 
but  now  it's  so  changed  that  I'd  hardly 
know  it  was  the  same — it  isn't  the  same — 
I'm  not  the  same,  either — 

Here  she  broke  down  again. 

I  leaned  over,  and  laid  my  hand  on  hers. 
You  know  she  wasn't  really  there;  the 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  181 

real  Mrs.  Purblind  seldom  talked  over  her 
affairs  with  me,  but  I  could  feel  what  she 
was  suffering,  none  the  less. 

'I   want  to  tell    you  something,   if  I 
may,"  I  said. 

She  assented  in  a  dumb  sort  of  fashion, 
and  I  leaned  a  little  nearer. 

The  firelight  gleamed  on  the  walls,  and 
in  its  glow  the  pictures  looked  down 
kindly  upon  us.  Soft  shadows  rested  in 
the  corners  of  the  room,  and  an  air  of 
peace  and  comfort  brooded  throughout,  as 
a  bird  upon  her  nest. 

"Think  a  little  while,"  I  said  gently; 
"think  of  his  side.  Is  he  quite  the  same 
as  he  was  when  he  married?" 

"Oh,  no!"  she  exclaimed;  "he  was  so 
loving  and  attentive  then. " 

"Had  he  any  hopes  and  plans?  En- 
thusiasm? Did  life  look  bright  to  him?" 

A  serious  look  traversed  her  face,  as 
though  she  were  entertaining  a  new 
thought. 

"Look  at  him  as  he  used  to  be,"  I  con- 
tinued. 


182  How  To  Cook  Husband 

And  as  I  spoke,  she  saw  that  a  young 
man  with  a  fresh,  sunny  face — a  healthy, 
happy,  care-free  face — was  sitting  in  the 
ruddy  firelight. 

She  gave  a  start. 

"That  is  Joe  as  he  used  to  be!"  she 
said.  "Oh,  how  he's  changed!" 

Even  as  she  spoke,  the  young  man 
faded  away,  and  an  older  man — much 
older,  apparently,  careworn,  and  unhappy- 
looking — took  his  place. 

The  coals  in  the  glowing  grate  sank, 
and  the  bright  light  suddenly  died.  A 
deep  shadow  rested  upon  the  figure  beside 
us;  he  was  with  us,  and  yet  seemed  so 
alone. 

"Who  would  think  a  man  could  change 
that  way  in  ten  years!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Purblind;  "would  you  believe  it  possible?" 

"Not  unless  he  had  known  many  disap- 
pointments, and  borne  loads  and  cares 
beyond  his  years.  I  have  never  thought 
of  that,"  she  murmured,  "I  believe  poor 
Joe  has  been  disappointed  too." 


How  To  Cook  Husbands*  183 

"He  certainly  has." 

"It's  too  bad,  and  there's  no  help  for  it 
now,"  she  added  with  a  sob. 

"Don't  say  that,"  I  urged,  laying  my 
hand  on  hers  again;  "you  close  the  gate  of 
heaven  when  you  say 'no  hope.'  There  is 
always  hope  as  long  as  there  is  a  spark  of 
life — any  physician  will  tell  you  that.  If 
you  can  be  patient — be  strong  to  bear,  and 
wait — if  you  can  make  home  bright,  and 
not  care,  or  not  seem  to  care  if  he  slights 
it  and  you,  for  weeks — months,  maybe 
years — it  takes  so  much  longer  to  undo, 
than  to  do — there  is  every  hope.  He 
couldn't  do  this,  but  a  woman — a  real 
woman,  is  strong  enough,  with  God  on 
her  side. " 

The  dullness  left  her  face,  and  an  unself- 
ish light  dawned  in  its  place.  As  she  rose 
to  go,  she  leaned  over  the  other  figure, 
and  he  looked  up  at  her,  with  something 
of  the  old-time  love. 

I  replenished  the  fire  after  they  had  gone 
— they  went  out  together — and  as  I  sat 


184  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

there  thinking  of  it  all,  I  heard  a  sudden 
rushing  sound  in  the  street. 

I  ran  to  the  door,  just  in  time  to  see  a 
farm  wagon,  drawn  by  two  strong  horses, 
go  pell-mell  past  my  house,  and  overturn, 
as  the  frightened  animals  dashed  around 
the  corner.  The  neighborhood  was  agog 
in  a  moment,  and  I  joined  the  rest  in  try- 
ing to  help  the  occupants  of  the  broken 
vehicle.  We  brought  them  into  the  house 
— the  man  and  woman  and  a  little 
child. 

As  soon  as  they  were  in  the  light,  I 
knew  them ;  they  were  some  of  my  people — 
a  German  family,  by  the  name  of  Abra- 
ham, who  lived  on  a  little  farm  just  out- 
siJe  our  suburb.  They  had  been  to  me 
typical  representatives  of  a  stupid  class,  who 
have  all  the  hardships  of  life,  and  none  of 
its  soft  lights  and  shades.  They  were  the 
kind  that  plant  their  pig-sty  on  the  lake 
side  of  their  house — put  the  pig-sty  betwixt 
them  and  every  other  beauty,  it  seemed  to 
me.  What  can  life  hold  for  such  people? 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  185 

They  know  nothing  of  love,  or  any  other 
joy.  Merely  an  animal  existence  is  theirs. 

We  fetched  a  doctor  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible— the  parents  were  merely  bruised, 
but  the  little  child  was  badly  hurt.  At 
first  we  feared  she  was  dying,  and  it  was 
a  relief  to  be  told  that  she  would  probably 
live. 

I  went  out  of  the  room  to  get  some  ban- 
dages, and  the  doctor  followed  me.  Re- 
turning suddenly,  I  ran  upon  an  unex- 
pected scene;  up  to  that  time,  before  us 
all,  the  parents  had  seemed  perfectly  stolid ; 
but  just  as  I  opened  the  door,  the  wife  and 
mother  rose  from  her  knees  by  the  bed, 
and  I  have  seldom  seen  a  look  more  ex- 
pressive of  tender  love  than  that  with 
which  her  husband  took  her  in  his  arms. 

We  have  many  things  to  learn  in  the 
next  world ;  one  of  these,  I  am  sure,  will 
be,  not  to  judge  by  the  life  upon  the  sur- 
face. There  is  a  deep  fount  of  feeling  be- 
neath, and  often  it  is  those  whom  we  least 
suspect,  who  dip  down  into  it. 


186  How  To  Cook  Husbands. 

I  was  still  busy  with  these  people,  when 
Randolph  Chance  walked  in  upon  me. 
His  kind  heart  needed  no  prompting  to 
join  in  our  little  attentions,  and  he  was  of 
especial  use  in  getting  a  vehicle  to  take  the 
family  home. 

After  they  had  gone,  and  we  found  our- 
selves alone,  a  great  embarrassment  seemed 
to  seize  him  in  a  fatal  grasp. 

By  and  by  I  realized  that  I  was  reallj 
getting  incensed,  and  I  was  afraid  I  should 
soon  be  in  the  position  of  the  man  who 
went  to  another,  whom  he  had  ill-treated, 
to  apologize  for  his  bad  conduct,  and,  "By 
Jove,  sir" — to  use  his  own  phrase,  "I  hit 
him  again." 

I  tried  to  keep  my  letter  before  my  eyes. 
I  didn't  want  to  be  forced  by  that  inexora- 
ble tyrant — conscience— to  write  another. 
And  I  should,  if  I  didn't  hold  on  to  my- 
self, and  this  man  didn't  behave  differently. 

To  avoid  a  clash,  I  set  to  work  to  clear 
away  some  of  the  confusion  consequent 
upon  the  accident,  and  he  helped  me  in 
this. 


How  To  Cook  Husbands.  187 

One  would  suppose  that-  might  serve  to 
cool  him,  and  it  did  indeed,  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that,  upon  our  settling  down  again,  he 
began  the  most  common-place  conversa- 
tion, giving  me  some  incidents  of  his  trip; 
discussing  the  scenery;  weather;  popula- 
tion, and  general  aspects  of  Buffalo;  with 
much  more  of  the  dryest,  most  disagreeable 
stuff,  that  a  man  ever  had  the  temerity  to 
use,  as  a  means  of  wasting  a  woman's 
evening. 

To  employ  a  childish  phrase — it  best  fits 
the  occasion — I  grew  madder  and  madder, 
until  at  last  matters  within  me  rose  to 
such  a  height,  that  when  he  began  to  tell 
of  his  brother's  house  in  Buffalo,  and  to 
dwell  upon  the  peculiarities  of  its  furniture, 
I  felt  peculiar  enough  to  hurl  all  of  mine  at 
him. 

The  number  of  things  I  thought  of  that 
evening  would  form  a  library  of  energetic 
literature.  Among  other  resolves,  I  deter- 
mined from  that  day  on,  if  I  lived  till  my 
hair  whitened — lived  till  I  raised  my  third 


188  How  To  Cook  Husbands, 

or  fourth  crop  of  teeth,  never,  never,  to  give 
Randolph  Chance  another  thought.  There 
was  one  comfort :  he  did  not  know,  nor  did 
any  one  else,  what  a  complete  goose  I  had 
made  of  myself;  but,  though  I  had  been 
most  foolish,  thanks  to  a  sober,  Puritanic 
ancestry,  I  still  had  myself  in  hand ;  my 
hysterics  had  been  occasional  and  secluded, 
and  I  was  not  wholly  gone  daft.  I  could 
recover;  I  would!  and  then,  if  ever  he 
came  to  my  feet,  he  would  learn  that  some 
things  don't  rise,  after  once  they  are  cold. 

I  was  calm  enough  when  he  at  last  de- 
cided to  go,  and  instead  of  running  on  ex- 
citedly, as  I  had  been  vaguely  conscious  of 
doing  part  of  the  evening,  I  really  con- 
versed. Indeed,  to  speak  modestly,  I 
think  I  was  rather  interesting.  I  had 
forgotten  what  he  had  called  for.  So  had 
he — apparently. 

All  I  hoped  was  that  he  did  not  intend 
to  bore  me  with  frequent  repetitions  of  this 
call.  I  had  better  use  for  my  evenings 
than  such  waste  of  t'  ^e  as  chatting  with 


How  to  Cook  Husbands.  189 

him.  I  cast  about  me  for  some  suitable 
excuse  to  shut  off  future  inflictions,  and  at 
last  hit  upon  one  that  I  thought  might 
answer. 

"I  suppose  I  must  sacrifice  myself  for  a 
while,"  I  said  cheerfully;  "I  have  had  a 
deal  of  business  swoop  down  upon  me,  and 
in  order  to  dispatch  it,  must  shut  myself 
up  for  a  time,  and  forego  the  joys  of 
society. " 

Instantly  his  old  embarrassment  came 
back  upon  him,  as  a  small  boy's  enemy — 
supposed  to  be  vanquished — darts  around 
the  corner,  and  renews  the  attack. 

He  started  to  go;  came  back;  returned 
to  the  door;  again  came  back;  colored 
vividly — looked  at  me  imploringly.  And 
as  I  looked  at  him  my  anger,  my  coldness 
— all  vanished,  and  I  exclaimed : 

"Randolph  Chance,  why  don't  you  say 
it!" 

"Some  things  are  awfully  hard  to  say. 
I  can  write —  Oh  Constance !  you  might 
have  mercy  on  me !" 


190  How  to  Cook  Husbands, 

"Well,"  I  said,  laughing — I  could  al- 
most see  the  light  upon  my  face — "I  sup- 
pose you  want  me  to  marry  you. " 

"You  can't  get  away  now!"  he  cried,  a 
second  later. 

The  walls  heard  a  much  -  smothered 
voice— 

"I  don't  want  to." 

Now  this  little  scene,  I  suppose,  is  what 
makes  Randolph  always  say  I  proposed  to 
him.  This  remark,  oft  repeated,  some- 
times under  very  trying  circumstances,  is 
his  one  disagreeableness.  But  I  let  it  pass 
without  comment,  for  I  realize  it  is  the 
spout  to  the  kettle,  and  I  am  thankful  that 
the  steam  has  so  safe  and  harmless  an  out- 
let. If  I  were  to  boil  him  too  hard,  he 
would  probably  overflow,  and  dim  the  fire ; 
but  I  am  very  cautious,  and  love  still 
burns  with  a  clear,  bright  flame. 

THE  END. 


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